


Where You're Planted

by allonsy_gabriel



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angus "No PDA On My Field Trip" McDonald, Attempt at Humor, Bonding, Chug 'N Squeeze Shenanigans, Cooking Lessons, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Constipation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Families of Choice, Family Bonding, Family Dinners, Family Fluff, First Dates, First Kiss, Gen, Love Confessions, Lup Kicks Ass, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parenthood, Pining, Please Don't Put Ranch On Your Chicken, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Slow Burn, Specifically Taako's Ass, Still Faerun, Team as Family, That's Not Even A Joke, The Author Hates Paul Hollywood, Zoo, bird nerd alert, but there's no magic powers, fuck sazed, gay shit, home as a concept, like they go to the zoo, they're all still elves and dwarves and shit, this has been a psa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25672054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: Everyone in New Elfington knew that, if you wanted something good to eat and you didn’t want to bust your wallet, you went to Tostaada’s Cafe and Bakery.It wasn’t a particularly fancy place—it sat on the first floor of the building that took up the corner of Broadway and Main, built out of old red bricks with windows that were permanently fogged up. The sign above the door was written in both faded Common and Elvish, the letters curling and the paint cracked.The food, however, was damn good.A story about finding your way home, and finding out that maybe home wasn't as far away as you previously thought.
Relationships: Angus McDonald & Taako, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup & Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 339
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello and welcome to my Quarantine Writing Project! I've been working on this bastard since April, and, seeing as I'm starting university in two weeks, I decided I need to Finish It Quick. That means that, if you're willing to take this ride with me, I'm going to be trying to complete and upload this entire story over the next 14-ish days. I've made this bed, it's time to lie in it.
> 
> Notice: I do not know how to run a restaurant. I have never worked in food service. All my restaurant operational knowledge comes from Ratatouille and my friends' horror stories.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in New Elfington knew that, if you wanted something good to eat and you didn't want to bust your wallet, you went to _Tostaada's Cafe and Bakery _.__
> 
> __It wasn't a particularly fancy place—it sat on the first floor of the building that took up the corner of Broadway and Main, built out of old red bricks with windows that were permanently fogged up. The sign above the door was written in both faded Common and Elvish, the letters curling and the paint cracked._ _
> 
> __The food, however, was damn good._ _

Everyone in New Elfington knew that, if you wanted something good to eat and you didn’t want to bust your wallet, you went to _Tostaada’s Cafe and Bakery_.

It wasn’t a particularly fancy place—it sat on the first floor of the building that took up the corner of Broadway and Main, built out of old red bricks with windows that were permanently fogged up. The sign above the door was written in both faded Common and Elvish, the letters curling and the paint cracked.

The food, however, was _damn_ good.

Tostaada had passed the place down to his daughter, who then passed it down to her niece and nephew, who, to put it bluntly, _kinda kicked ass_.

“So, we’ve got two who want gumbo, three who want spicy cheese grits, and another who wants the seafood pasta,” Barry said as he pushed open the door to the kitchen and stuck the order to the magnet board. “Also, the counter is out banana bread, someone called in a few minutes ago to check on their wedding cake order, and Angus is going to be here to pick up his order in fifteen minutes.”

“Shit, what’s next, the queen coming to visit?” Taako asked, turning and dusting his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“No, that’s next Tuesday,” Lup cut in, placing a quick kiss to Barry’s cheek. “Have Ren come in here when she gets the chance so she can get started on that bread while I finish up these madeleines, m’kay, hon?”

“Sounds good to me,” Barry said. “Hey, is today Angus’ lessons day?”

“Yeah, the kid is hanging around for a couple hours before soccer practice. That’ll—that’ll help. He can chop shit pretty good, now,” Taako said, moving to get started on the seafood for the pasta.

“Is that—are you sure that’s a good idea? The kid’s, like, eight.”

“Babe, Taako and I were making five-star spaghetti bolognese by the time we were eight. He’ll be fine,” Lup insisted, placing another kiss on Barry’s cheek.

“No! No no no,” Taako said, scowling at them. “You two get _one_ act of PDA per hour, and you’ve done used it. Stop being gross in my kitchen before I toss you both out on the street.”

“You wouldn’t do that to your favouritest twin sis—”

“Oh, I _absolutely_ fucking would,” Taako promised. “I’ll teach Ren your secret beignet recipe and hire Magnus full time and then it’ll be fucking _over_ for you nerds.”

Lup threw her head back and laughed. “Someone’s cranky because he’s _single_ —”

“ _Someone_ is cranky because he’s got six orders to fill and fucking _wedding cake_ to design and his co-chef is _macking_ on her fiancé.”

Taako and Lup had been running _Tostaada’s_ for about six years after inheriting it from their aunt, and they were doing… well.

Had Taako _wanted_ to end up in New Elfington, just a couple of miles from where he and Lup had grown up, running a small-town cafe and rarely leaving the city?

No.

But Lup wasn’t going to dump the place where they’d learned to cook, and Taako wasn’t going to leave his sister high and dry when she needed him, so he’d torn up his _Neverwinter Culinary School_ brochures and put the money he’d saved into remodelling _Tostaada’s_ kitchen and soundproofing his bedroom in the apartment they shared above the cafe.

And things were… fine.

New Elfington was fine.

Not—not _different_ or _big_ or _far away_ , but fine.

They had a pretty good fashion district and a zoo and a fantasy-Target, so that was a step up.

Taako was good.

“Hey, the grits and the gumbo are done, would get Mags in here?” Taako asked Lup as he ladled the food into bowls and garnished each dish.

“Get him yourself!”

“You’re closer!” Taako said, tossing a wadded-up piece of paper at his sister.

“Fuck you!” Lup shouted, throwing the paper ball back at him before moving to kick open the door and shouting out into the cafe, “Hey, uh, hey Beefy O’Burly! Get over here!”

“Such a healthy employee dynamic,” Taako sighed, quickly removing the shrimp and scallops from the pan before mixing together the rue.

“If you wanted it done differently you should’ve done it yourself.”

“Title of your sex tape.”

Lup blinked at him twice. “That was—”

“Yeah, that one was—that one was kinda a dud,” Taako admitted.

“What was a dud?” Magnus asked as he entered the kitchen and grabbed the bowls Taako had placed on the counter.

“T tried to roast me,” Lup replied. “It wasn’t great.”

“They can’t all be gems! Sometimes they gotta suck or else it stops being realistic,” Taako said, pointing at the two of them with his wooden spoon.

Whatever Lup was about to say in response was cut off by a knock at the back door.

“That’ll be the kid,” Taako said, wiping his hands on his apron. “Magnus, take those out. Barry, stop ogling my sister and do—something. You know, something we actually _pay_ you to do.”

Barry huffed and rolled his eyes, used to this kind of behaviour. “Sure thing, Boss Man.”

Taako scowled. He _hated_ being called that, which was 100% why Barry did it.

He’d been spending too much time with Lup.

There was another, more insistent knock at the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, don’t get your fucking— _feathered cap_ in a twist, fantasy-Jesus Christ,” Taako said, yanking open the back door.

“Hello, sir!” Angus said as he grinned up at Taako, his smile showing off his missing top left tooth.

Angus came by three times a week to pick up his “orders”. The kid had started showing up at the café three years prior, buying as many meals as the crumpled-up handfuls of cash he placed on the counter would buy him. At first, Taako thought he was just some kid with hippie “free-range” parents who sent him out to run errands.

After a month it became clear that wasn’t the case.

Taako still wasn’t _exactly_ sure what was up with Angus McDonald—he lived with his grandpa, he did some freelance detective work to make extra cash, he was a godsdamn _genius_ , and while Taako might not know all the details of the situation, he _did_ know was what a hungry kid looked like.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Taako said, knocking up the brim of Angus’ patched feathered cap. “Your shit’s in the fridge, don’t forget to get it after lessons. And don’t worry about getting me the money today, I’ll just—”

“Put it on my tab, I know, sir,” Angus interrupted, straightening his hat. “But actually, sir, I can get it now—”

“You skipping out on lessons, Ango?”

“No! No, of course not, sir, I just—my uncle drove me here today, and he—he said he could take it all back to the house while I’m doing lessons so that it doesn’t have to sit in the car while I’m at soccer practice.”

Taako stared at him for a moment, looking the kid over before nodding. “Sure thing, pumpkin, lemme just—who’s your uncle? Is he just—waiting in the car?” he asked, pulling Angus’ food from the fridge. Seven meals—it was Friday, so Angus wouldn’t be getting food from school for the next two days—in aluminium trays, each containing all the nutrients necessary to sustain a growing boy, none containing strawberries, peanuts, tree nuts, shellfish or pork.

“Oh, yes! He wanted to come up with me, but I told him it was okay to wait in the car! I’m a—I’m big enough to carry the food by myself,” Angus insisted.

Taako hummed and handed him the trays. True to his word, Angus didn’t sway under the weight of the food. “I’ll be right back, sir!” he exclaimed before carefully making his way back out the door.

Taako watched as, sure enough, Angus took the food over to a black sedan that was parked neatly on the corner and placed it in the passenger’s seat.

He also appeared to be buckling it in, which was—

Too fucking adorable, honestly.

“Hey, Lu?” Taako said as he watched Angus say something to the man sitting in the driver’s seat. Taako couldn’t make him out all that well, but he looked to be some guy in a suit. “Has Ango ever mentioned having an uncle?”

“Not that I can remember,” Lup replied, setting down her whisk.

Taako narrowed his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“You think he’s in trouble?” Lup asked, moving to stand next to her brother and peer out the door.

Angus seemed to be about to turn around, so Taako shooed her off and quickly went back to mixing the cream sauce for the seafood pasta. He added a splash more milk and dumped back in the scallops and shrimp. “I dunno,” he muttered. “I—I’ll ask him about it.”

“Ask me about what, sir?” Angus’ voice piped up from behind Taako, and Taako flinched so hard he almost banged his wrist against his saucepan.

“Holy _fucking_ shit, kid!” Taako said. “We—gods, we’re gonna have to put a damn bell on you, aren’t we? _Fuck_.”

“Sneaking is a very good skill for a detective, sir,” Angus said with a shrug. “Perps can’t run away from you if they don’t know you’re there.”

“That’s so fucking wild to hear coming from your tiny child mouth,” Taako mumbled.

“You had a question for me?” Angus pushed, smiling up at Taako with his big innocent baby eyes.

Taako felt himself starting to sweat.

“I just—I was gonna ask your opinion on… cake.”

“My opinion,” Angus repeated slowly. “On cake.”

“Yes?”

Angus blinked. “Well,” he started, “I _am_ just a little boy, so my opinion on most things containing sugar is _yes please and also thank you,_ sir, but if you’re asking about my _favourite_ cake, I’m going to have to say the red velvet with cream cheese frosting that Miss Lup makes. It’s sweet but not _cloying_ , and the icing is really good.”

“That—good. Good choice. Good job, you’ve passed this—the test. The cake test. You’ve solved my cake puzzle!” Taako said. “Now wash your hands, we’re making—”

“Cake?”

“No. You’re gonna chop up vegetables and show me how that _technique_ is coming, and then I’m gonna teach you how to make a raspberry distillation,” Taako said, tossing Angus an apron.

Angus tied it on and moved to the sink. “Are you doing the blackened salmon and Greek salad for the special tonight?” he asked.

Taako narrowed his eyes again.

“Maybe so.”

Angus’ smile widened as he hurried to grab his stepping stool from the corner and pull it up next to Taako, who stirred noodles into the cream sauce and plated it quickly. He stuck his head out the door to the dining room and yelled, “Seafood pasta!” before ducking back into the kitchen.

Lup had said they needed to do one of those counter-window things with, like, the bell and shit, but that’d sounded too much like the setup from fantasy-SpongeBob and made Taako’s skin crawl.

Besides, this was fine.

If Barry was gonna get hitched to Taako’s sister he’d better get used to being yelled at by _both_ of them, and Magnus was honestly _already_ used to it, and Ren had her shit pretty much on lock at all times, so—

 _Fuck_ , they needed more waiters.

“Hey Ango, you looking for a job?” Taako asked as he passed the small boy a bundle of mint and a few cucumbers and tomatoes.

“I, uh, I think hiring me would break a child labour laws, sir.”

“Yeah, okay, fine. Whatever. You win this time, boychik,” Taako said, elbowing Angus lightly.

“Hey, uh, Taako, we need a tomato basil panini and there’s a couple out here asking about the dinner menu—” Magnus said, poking his head back through the door.

“Have you told them that we don’t—”

“Yup.”

“Cool, okay, uh—" He turned to Lup, who was up to her shoulders in madeleines, and sighed. “Ango?” he asked.

“Yes, sir?”

“Change of plans. Have I taught you how to use the panini press yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

Taako pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lu, would you please supervise and make sure short sack here doesn’t burn down my kitchen?”

“Yeah, as soon as I don’t have pastry in my fucking _eyebrows_ , babe.”

“Cool,” Taako said. “Let’s do this.”

He returned fifteen minutes later to a thankfully still-intact kitchen, flopped down in one of the metal folding chairs against the wall, and groaned into his hands.

“The next time someone asks to _speak with the owner_ I’m going to beat them to death with a rolling pin, and that is in no way a joke.”

“Yikes,” Lup said.

“You can say that again.”

“ _Yikes_.”

Taako looked up at his sister, who was half-smiling in that dumb, semi-concerned way of hers.

He rolled his eyes. “You need new material.”

“Yeah, well, you need to stop plotting _actual murder_ around our child detective. What kinda example are you setting, huh?”

Taako laughed and pushed himself up out of the chair. “The kid knows better than to look to me for any _real-world guidance_ , right Agnes?”

Angus took a moment to look away from the panini press he was staring at with intense concentration to smile at Taako. “Actually, sir, you’re one of my greatest role models! You’re smart and resourceful and car—”

“Okay, alright, that’s—you’re gonna burn that panini and put me outta a job. C’mon, kid, aren’t you supposed to be some sort of child genius?” Taako interrupted, moving next to Angus.

“I hardly think one bad panini will take down your whole establishment, sir,” Angus argued, but Taako simply shook his head.

“They’ll send the restaurant police after us, and then me ‘n Lu ‘n Mags ‘n Ren ‘n Barold will be on the run from the law. Do you want that? _I_ don’t want that. Tell me what you put on that sandwich, bubbeleh.”

“Tomato, basil, and those little mozzarella circles that look like baby bell cheeses,” Angus said without hesitation. “I brushed the outside of the sandwich with olive oil and when it’s done, I’ll cut it into triangle slices because Taako didn’t raise no fool.”

“Amen hallelujah,” Taako agreed. “Anything else?”

“Oh!” Angus said. “I remembered the salt and crushed red pepper this time, so it won’t taste like a Karen sandwich!”

Taako mimed wiping a tear from under his eye. “I’m so proud,” he said. “Lup! Our little baby boy is all grown up and making baller sandwiches!”

“Good job, Ango!” Lup yelled back. “Make another one to take with you to soccer practice, m’kay? Gotta fuel up before you go kick a bunch of other six-year old’s asses.”

“Actually, ma’am, I’m ten—”

“ _Please_ don’t call it _fueling up_ , he’s a _human_ , not a _car_ ,” Taako cut in. “Tell her, Angus. Tell her you’re not a car and that calling food _fuel_ is against the fantasy-Geneva Conventions.”

“I—well, Miss Lup, I _am_ a flesh boy, but I don’t think it’s _technically_ a war crime to call it that—”

“This house? A nightmare. I quit.”

“You? A ridiculous drama queen. I want a new brother.”

“I think it’s done!” Angus said, carefully opening the press and placing the sandwich on a plate. “Does it look okay?”

Taako peered at it for a moment. It was golden brown. The cheese was gooey but not dripping over the sides. It had that _good_ good basil-smell that made people’s mouths water.

“Looks good, pumpkin. Pop a pickle spear next to that bad boy and have Barold take it out.”

Angus beamed, and Taako had to resist the urge to ruffle the kid’s hair.

“School going okay? Top of your class? Kicking ass? Bringing honour to the family name?” Taako asked as he worked beside the kid.

He saw Lup smirking at him from her own workstation and subtly flipped her off.

“Sir, you _do_ know we’re not, um, related, right? Like, legally? Or by blood? Or anything? I mean, for starters you’re an elf and I’m a human boy and—”

“So, are you showing those second-grade fools how it’s done or not, pumpkin?”

“It’s eighth grade but uh—yes. I. Um. The science fair is coming up and I did my project over determining time of death by using blood pooling and the difference between the internal temperature of the deceased and the ambient temperature,” Angus explained.

“And that’s—a thing? You learn at school? This is what they’re teaching kids in schools these days? How to figure out how dead someone is?”

“Not usually, but I—my science teacher said we could do our project over whatever we want, and I figured this would be useful information to have while doing detective work, so—”

“So you _chose_ to study dead dudes.”

“Yes, sir.”

Taako didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.

“How’d you get—you didn’t, like, _actually_ study dead dudes though, right? Like, you weren’t _out on the town_ , waiting for some fucking—some poor fool to beef it.”

“Oh no, sir! My uncle works at a funeral home and has friends in the mortuary department down at the police station, and usually they don’t let little boys into the morgue—”

“Yeah, I’d fucking hope not—”

“But they decided they’d make an exception for the world’s greatest detective!”

“Huh,” Taako said, staring down at the vegetables on the cutting board in front of him. “So, your uncle, he’s…”

“Oh, he’s an estate manager, but he actually used to be a musician! He played with the symphony in Neverwinter for a while and he’s really good!” Angus insisted.

“‘S that why he hasn’t been around much before?” Taako asked casually, coolly, completely chill and 100% nonchalant, natch.

“Yes, sir,” Angus said. “But—but you don’t have to be mad at him, sir, really. Things are—they’re fine, with me and my granddad, I mean, and he didn’t—there was no reason for him to think, or to worry, and—I mean, there’s _still_ no reason for him to worry because everything is good, sir, but—”

“Ango. Chill.” Taako nudged the boy with his hip. “I ain’t mad, kid. Not at you or… your uncle. I just—if he’s gonna be helping you chow down on that _good_ stuff I send you home with, I need to make sure he’s above board, y’know? Assholes aren’t allowed to partake in my culinary genius.”

“Sir, Edward and Lydia come here once a week, and also _you_ eat your food, and you say that you’re an asshole all the time, so—”

“Look, can we not poke holes in my logic? Please? You—less _logic-ing_ and more _raspberry slicing_ , alright? Chop chop, let’s go.”

Taako heard Lup snort from where she was sliding a few pans cookies into the oven.

“What are you laughing at, dweebus?” he asked, throwing a hand towel at her.

“Oh, nothing, just you getting outsmarted by a seven-year-old,” Lup replied, throwing the towel right back.

Taako huffed and turned back to his work. “The kid’s a literal genius prodigy child,” he muttered. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Sure, T. If that’s gonna help you sleep at night.”

“You know what’s gonna help me sleep at night? Knocking you the fuck out. You’re on thin ice.”

“No, I’m not,” Lup countered easily, winking at Angus as she passed him on the way to the sink.

Angus giggled and Taako gasped, holding a hand up to his heart. “I can’t believe I’m being betrayed by my own apprentice, my own protégé—is this how fantasy-Caesar felt as he lay on the fantasy-Senate floor? Is this how fantasy-Jesus felt as he looked into the eyes of fantasy-Judas? Is this—”

“Your long-awaited fantasy-Oscar bid? And the award for _most overdramatic gay asshole_ goes to Taako Taaco in his performance of _one time the local youth laughed at my sister’s joke_ ,” Lup interrupted.

“You—you’re fired! You’re all fired! Everyone out! I—I’m gonna hire a bunch of magic chef rats like in that one movie, and then we’re gonna make the best food in town and none of you fools will get to eat it _or_ have jobs, so. Eat my entire ass.”

“Whose ass are we eating?” Barry asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Taako’s, apparently. Add it to the chalkboard menu, babe. _Ass al a Taako_ —”

“All compliments go to the chef,” Barry said with a grin.

“This really is the worst work environment. I dunno how anything gets done ‘round here with you chucklefucks constantly dicking around,” Taako grumbled. “This is why I’m replacing you all with Angus. Angus, welcome to the foodservice industry. It destroys your soul and inner happiness but sometimes you get to eat the leftovers and that’s a pretty sweet gig.”

“Again, sir, I’m very much sure that’s illegal—”

“What are you, a narc? Have I been raising a narc? Lup, I think our kid might be a narc!”

“If he’s a narc he legally has to tell us or else it’s entrapment.”

“I’m not a narc, I’m just a little boy—”

“We need another seafood pasta and another bowl of grits,” Barry interrupted. “Please.”

“Are those together or separate?” Taako asked, turning back to the stove.

“Together, thank the gods. I think if I saw someone eating grits alone, I’d have to stage an intervention,” Barry answered.

“I’ve eaten grits alone,” Taako said, pointing a spoon in Barry’s direction.

“Thanks for proving his point for him, bro-bro,” Lup said.

“I’m writing you all out of my will. Ango, would you put some water on to boil? Lup, will you go back to making your fancy-ass cookies and stop _bullying me_?”

Angus smiled up at Taako and then checked his watch. “Of course, sir, but I think I’ll have to leave after that—I have soccer practice soon and if I’m late Coach Taylor won’t let me be captain next season!”

“Well we can’t have that,” Lup said, reaching over and booping the edge of Angus’ newsboy cap. “How’re you gonna go pro if you’re not captain?”

“I don’t think I can be a pro soccer player _and_ the world’s greatest detective, ma’am,” Angus said. “But being captain _would_ be really cool!"

His glasses were slipping down his nose—apparently, they’d been knocked off his face _on a case_ a few months back, and they hadn’t fit correctly since—and Taako slid his finger along the bridge of his own nose. Angus huffed and pushed the glasses up, rolling his eyes the whole time.

“You look like someone’s pretentious old lit professor, c’mon, kid,” Taako muttered, and then snapped twice. “Water, Agnes. Water, on the stove, c’mon, you think—you think we’re gonna serve dry fucking fettuccine? Like a buncha animals?”

Angus giggled and looked over at Barry, who groaned. “Listen, I—that whole thing is the two of you’s fault, alright? You—the both of you come waltzing in, all big fancy chefs and shit, and you say, ‘Hey, Barry, poor, innocent, _naive_ Barry, the raw fettuccine at fantasy-Olive Garden? Yeah, that shit’s for snacking,’ what the fuck _else_ am I supposed to think?” he snapped.

“Oh, I dunno, that we’re _maybe_ full of horseshit?” Lup said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, I’m sorry for _trusting you_ —”

“Oh, you should be, Barold,” Taako agreed. “That’s—that’s a rookie mistake.”

Barry opened his mouth, probably to mount some dork-ass pasta-based defence of his actions, but was interrupted by a short series of knocks on the back door.

“Oh man,” Angus said. “That—that’s probably my uncle, he said he’d be back to pick me up in time to take me to practice. I’m really sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Taako, sir—”

“Chillax, kid,” Taako interrupted. “Just having another sane person around his help enough.” He slung his dish towel over his shoulder and moved to open the back door.

So this _uncle_ of Angus’ thought he could just _swoop in_ after not caring about the kid for _years_ , thought they’d just _accept_ that without asking any questions, thought he wouldn’t meet the business end of Taako’s whisk, _like fucking hell_ —

“Um, excuse me, is Angus McDonald—do you have him? With you?” the man at the door asked, and Taako had to take a moment to pick his jaw up off the floor.

He was...

He was tall, but not, like, _weird_ tall, with long, dark hair twisted into dreads and pulled back into a neat ponytail. His skin was dark and smooth, and he had cheekbones that Taako could probably use to, like, filet a fish or something.

So, like, basically?

_Hot fucking damn._

“Uh—yeah. Yeah. Yes. I—Ango? Kid? You—you ready to, um, make like a baby and head out?” Taako asked, turning over his shoulder and—

“Yes, sir! Thank you for the lesson today, sir! Hello, Uncle Kravitz!” Angus chirped from where he stood, a whole _four inches_ away from Taako.

“Fantasy Christ alive, Agnes, you’re gonna fucking kill me,” Taako said. “You good? Hands washed? Apron, uh—apron put away?”

“Yes, sir,” Angus said. He quickly threw his arms around Taako’s waist and squeezed him tight. “Thank you, sir. I love you.”

“Yeah, uh. You too, kiddo,” Taako said, patting Angus’ back awkwardly. The kid smiled up at him for a moment before racing out of the kitchen and over to the black car parked in the parking lot.

Hot Uncle—Kravitz?—didn’t move.

“You, uh—you good, my fella?” Taako asked, giving Kravitz another once-over.

Just as nice the second time.

Kravitz cleared his throat. “I—I wanted to say that I appreciate everything you’ve done for Angus—”

“Oh, no problem my dude. Kid’s—look, you can’t tell him his, obviously, I’ve got a reputation to keep, but—kid’s a fucking delight,” Taako interrupted.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Kravitz said. He had—was that an accent? A cockney accent? Had he had a cockney accent this whole time? “And while, again, I appreciate it, I just thought I should let you know, that will be—your services will no longer be necessary.”

Taako blanched.

“Uh, excuse me?”

“I simply—I’m going to be around for a while. For Angus. So, you—this. The food. Everything. Won’t be necessary any longer. Thank you for all you—for everything. Really,” Kravitz replied with a fake, plastered on smile. It made him officially 78% less attractive. “And I—Angus mentioned he has a tab here? I’ll be happy to pay that off—”

“You really think he has a tab?” Taako snapped. “You—you think I’m charging the kid for the _food he needs to live_ —”

“Well I assumed—”

“Look, bubbeleh, I’m an asshole but I ain’t _heartless_. Taako doesn’t let kids starve, m’kay?” Taako said with a sneer. “And, since my services are _no longer necessary_ , then I guess you’ll need to know that Angus is allergic to peanuts, tree nuts, and strawberries, and he strictly practices kosher. If you need any information on that, lemme know. I’m pretty knowledgeable about it, seeing as I’ve been _feeding your nephew_ for the past three years.”

Kravitz opened his mouth, closed his mouth, and narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I need access to what I’m sure is your veritable _well of expertise_ ,” he said.

Sarcastically.

Very sarcastically.

In that fucking cockney accent.

That Taako was pretty sure was some fake-ass bullshit.

“Well then, if that’s _all_ ,” Taako replied, plastering a wide smile onto his face. “Have a _lovely fucking day_.”

And he shut that door in that asshole’s face.

“Good _fucking_ riddance,” he muttered, wiping his hands together. “What a dick. Like! Seriously! Sorry for fucking— _actually caring about your nephew_ , dude! I’ll be sure to fuck right off! Jeezy _fucking_ creezy!”

“He _was_ cute though,” Lup said.

“I mean, _yeah_ , but, like, so is _Edward_ , like, _objectively_!” Taako shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “This is just—this is just more proof that all hot people are assholes.”

“Hey,” Lup said. “ _We’re_ hot people.”

“I mean, _I_ defo am,” Taako said with a shrug. “Which only fucking further proves my point, so.”

Lup stared at him for a moment before nodding and shrugging.

“So, what? Are we just—done? With Angus?” Barry asked. “I mean, I care about the kid, and his uncle does seem like a douchebag, but, uh, he _is_ Angus’ uncle, so—”

“So fucking _what_ , Barold?” Taako asked. “So we—so we just accept his bullshit? Just—‘Oh, Angus, we love you and have done our best to take care of you for the last couple of years, but now your _asshole uncle_ is here, so I guess we’ll never see you again, fucking _bye_.’ Is that it, Barry? Is that _so_?”

“Taako,” Lup interrupted, placing a hand on Taako’s shoulder. “Just—calm down for literally _one fucking second_ , m’kay? Obviously, we’re not gonna ditch Ango. He—he’s got a soccer game tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, Lu, tomorrow’s Saturday. Little shit’s got a soccer game every Saturday—”

“And it’s your week to go, isn’t it?”

Taako perked up immediately. “Oh shit,” he said. “Oh _shit_ , it is! Lup, Lulu, you’re a genius, defo, like, at _least_ top three on my favourite sister list—”

“I’m your _only godsdamn sister_ —”

“I’m gonna be—I’m gonna be so _fucking_ supportive, Lup. Just—I’m bringing him a fantasy-Gatorade, natch, obviously, and we’ll go out for ice cream afterwards, of course, that’s just—that’s just the _ushe_. What else should I do? Is there—do you think I could get one of those annoying-as-fuck bedazzled cowbells before nine a.m. tomorrow? Is that doable?”

Lup sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna be extra about this, aren’t you?”

“Lup, my dear, is there any other way to be?”

There was a beat of silence.

“That’s what I _fucking_ thought,” Taako said with a wide smile.

“This is gonna be a mess,” Barry muttered.

Taako didn’t say it out loud, but he was almost inclined to agree.

 _Almost_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe Taako knew absolutely nothing about soccer, except, like. You kick the black and white ball into the net. No hands allowed. _GOOOOOOOOOOAL! ___  
>  _  
>  _You know. Soccer._  
> _  
>  _  
>  _Did he understand what was going on? Absolutely not. Did he pay attention to the game? Also no. Did he cheer obnoxiously loud whenever Angus stepped onto the field or did literally anything?_  
> _  
>  _  
>  _You bet your gay ass he did._  
> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i'm posting today but i probably won't tomorrow bc i'm working an open-closer and that'll, y'know. kill me dead. so. hopefully this is, like. good. who tf knows at this point.
> 
> it does have multiple scenes in it, though, so like. that's something.
> 
> also, I know literally fuck-all about soccer. i am a basketball fan and a basketball fan only. miss me with that feet shit.

Angus McDonald had been on his school’s soccer team for a year and a half, now, and things were going…

Good. They were going good.

Taako was, like, 82% sure things were going good.

Okay, so maybe Taako knew absolutely _nothing_ about soccer, except, like. You kick the black and white ball into the net. No hands allowed. _GOOOOOOOOOOAL!_

You know. Soccer.

That didn’t stop him from showing up to at least one of Angus’ games a month, wearing the ill-fitting, scratchy, fashion-nightmare fantasy-Gildan t-shirt Angus had gotten for him before his first game.

Did he understand what was going on? Absolutely not. Did he pay attention to the game? Also no. Did he cheer obnoxiously loud whenever Angus stepped onto the field or did literally anything?

You bet your gay ass he did.

This Saturday was no different. The weather was poor, Taako’s shirt was hideous, and a bunch of middle-aged moms with stacked a-line bobs and oversized faux-pearl necklaces had set up massive umbrellas in the bleachers of the New Elfington Middle School soccer field.

This Saturday was no different, except that Taako had come with a _mission_. He was _armed and dangerous._ He’d spent some ( _definitely_ not an embarrassing amount, shut _up_ , Lup) time the night before making sure he was _locked and fucking loaded_ to prove himself to be the _most_ supportive par—

Ahem.

 _Adult figure_.

In Angus’ life.

He had a glittery cowbell, natch. That part was easy-fucking-peasy. He had pom-poms. He’d bedazzled the hideous shirt. He’d bought fantasy-Gatorade _and_ fantasy-Powerade. And made sandwiches. Good sandwiches. _And_ he’d learned some, like. Soccer stuff. About soccer.

Maybe.

It’d been late, and _perhaps_ Taako had gotten distracted by the fact that 99% of professional soccer players were _hot as fuck_.

Perhaps.

Anyway, he’d _defo_ fucked up his fantasy-YouTube algorithm, and it was the fucking _thought that counted_ , so.

Angus was already warming up when Taako arrived, but Kravitz was nowhere in sight, which, like, on one hand, _hell fucking yeah_ , that meant Taako had one-hundo percent won this round of _Who Wants To Be Ango’s Favourite Adult_ , but on the other hand, it was pretty hard to rub that in Kravitz’s face if the pretentious dipshit _wasn’t fucking there_.

Taako sighed and set up camp right behind Angus’ team’s bench, propping up a bright red umbrella he’d stolen from Lup in the stands because _maybe_ those tacky soccer moms were on to something.

A few minutes later, Angus came bounding over to where he sat, a thin sheen of sweat already covering his brow. “Hello, sir!” he said. He was hopping up and down, the tops of his glasses just barely peeking above the edge of the raised bleachers as he jumped. “You’re here earlier than you usually are!”

“Oh?” Taako said, grinning down at the kid. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, considering you usually don’t get here until the game’s already started, I—”

“Guess I just got around early,” Taako interrupted. “So how you feeling, kid? Ready to, uh, score? Some goals? Kick the ball? Do a—a bicycle? Bicycle kick? Or—”

“Taako _please_ ,” Angus said through a fit of giggles.

“What? Am I—am I not _hip with the lingo_ , Agnes? Am I not cool enough for your _totally tubular soccer slang_ —”

“Angus, I got—oh. Hello,” a voice said from behind Taako.

A voice that quickly developed a shitty British accent towards the end of its sentence.

 _Fuck_.

“Oh. ‘Sup, dude?” Taako said, turning to see—yup. There was Kravitz, holding two bottles of water and a box of popcorn.

“I—what are you doing here?” Kravitz asked, a suspicious look on his face, which was _ridiculous_. As if _Taako_ was the suspicious one here. What the fuck.

“Oh, Taako comes to at least one of my games every month!” Angus piped up. “We get ice cream afterwards!”

“I… see,” Kravitz said. He smiled, a forced, plastered on thing, and cleared his throat. “Angus, I got your wa—”

“Oh, shit, Angles, that reminds me,” Taako interrupted, ignoring Kravitz’s glare as he rummaged through his bag. He pulled out the two different sports drinks and knelt down to hand them to the boy. “Which one you want, kiddo?”

“I—sir, you didn’t have to get me—”

“Nah, it’s cool, Barry buys ‘em all the time and then can’t ever finish them because _there’s too much going on_ or some other weird bullshit,” Taako said. “Now, d’you want— _glacier cherry_ , what the fuck is a _glacier cherry_ —or watermelon lime?”

“I, uh, I’ll take watermelon lime,” Angus said, reaching up and taking the bottle.

Taako sighed in relief. “Oh, thank _fuck_ ,” he said. “I thought—I was worried I was gonna have to stage an intervention. No apprentice of _mine_ is gonna drink anything called fucking _glacier cherry_! Cherries don’t grow on glaciers! _Nothing_ grows on glaciers! They’re _ice_!”

Taako’s rant was interrupted by another stiff _a-hem_ from behind him.

He turned on his heel and raised his eyebrows at Kravitz, who looked appropriately miffed. “You inhale a bug or something, bubbeleh? Got something stuck in your throat?”

“No, I just—Angus, would you… would you still like that water?” Kravitz asked, kneeling beside Taako.

Taako grimaced.

“Yes please, thank you, sir,” Angus said. “It’s always good to have extra water on the bench! Then you’re at lower risk of becoming dehydrated during the game!”

Kravitz glanced at Taako, as if bringing the _backup water_ was something to be proud of.

Taako rolled his eyes and reached out the ruffle Angus’ hair. “Go kick ass, m’kay, pumpkin?”

Angus beamed at him and gave him a two-fingered salute before turning and rushing back over towards his team.

“So, you… do this often?” Kravitz asked as Taako moved to sit back down underneath his umbrella.

“Do I do _what_ often?” Taako asked. “Like, do I come to Ango’s soccer games often? Not as often as I’d like, but at least once a month, yeah. We’ve got a schedule, so someone’s always here, but sometimes it’s Lu or Barold or Magnus.”

Kravitz stared at him for a moment. “Hm.”

Taako groaned and rolled his eyes. “What about you, thug? What’s your story? Are you—you where Ango gets his fucking— _sport gene_ or whatever?” he asked.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Kravitz replied. “I—I mean, I try and get to the gym somewhat regularly but—no. That must be from his father’s side, I’m afraid.”

“Ah,” Taako said, not at all disappointed. “So you’re more of—you’re where he got that nerd shit, then?”

Kravitz glared at him out of the corner of his eye. “I… suppose, perhaps,” he said. “Andrea—Angus’ mother, I mean, she was always—she was the brainiac of the family, really. I’m—I was always the, uh—”

“Goth one?”

“I’m not _goth_ —”

“Uhhhh you work at a morgue, basically, you seem to only wear black, and you play classical music,” Taako argued, counting each one off on his fingers. “That’s what we like to call _the goth triple threat_ , bucko.”

Kravitz sneered and went back to watching the field as he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Taako tried his hardest to follow the plot of the game, really, he did. But at the moment, Angus wasn’t all the field, so…

“Neverwinter, huh?”

Kravitz glanced over at him.

“Yes.”

“You were in the orchestra?”

“Yes.”

“What’d you play?”

“Any string instrument, really, but mostly cello.”

“And now you work at a morgue?”

“I’m an estate manager. There’s a difference.”

“Sure, sure,” Taako agreed with a wave of his hand. “You got Ango in with some dead dudes?”

“I took him to see a few cadavers. Nothing gruesome, all natural deaths. Mostly he was interested in their charts, seeing the difference between their internal temperature when they were found and—”

“And the temperature of their surroundings, yeah, I know. Kid’s pretty proud of his work.”

“As he should be. It’s highly impressive for a child of his age.”

“Everything that kid does is highly impressive,” Taako said. “He’s so fucking smart, I—it’s crazy, talking to him because you just—you _know_ that someday this kid’s going to be amazing.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz agreed, something like a smile beginning to creep up onto his face.

Taako cleared his throat. “So you just moved back?”

“I wouldn’t say _just_. I’ve been in New Elfington for three months.”

Taako narrowed his eyes. “Huh,” he said. “Funny. Angus didn’t mention you before yesterday.”

“Yes, well, it _was_ only two days ago that I moved in with him and his grandfather, so,” Kravitz said coolly.

“Where were you before that?”

“Is that really your business?”

Taako raised his hands in the air. “Just curious,” he said. “The kid usually tells me these sorta things. I’m just trying to fill in the gaps.”

Kravitz turned to face him, a look of casual disdain on his face. “Have you ever considered that maybe my nephew isn’t obligated to give _every detail of his personal life_ out to random adults?”

Taako’s eyebrows rose as he blinked rapidly. “ _Okay then_ ,” he said. “Uh, counterpoint: you ever considered that me and my merry band of dumbasses have done more for Angus in the past _month_ than you have for him his entire, I dunno, _fucking life_?”

“No one asked you to—”

“Yeah because no one fucking _cared to_! I just decided to _help a kid who needed help_ because _no one else was doing it_! So _sorry_ for giving a shit about _your nephew_ when you clearly fucking _didn’t_ ,” Taako hissed before turning back to the soccer game.

He still didn’t understand fucking _any_ of it.

“Sirs! Sirs, did you see me?” Angus asked as he ran up to them after the game. “Did you see me shoulder feint around that guy, and then—I actually did a jump cut there at the end, did you see?”

“Sure did, kid!” Taako said, absolutely lying through his teeth. He saw Angus kick the ball around some kids, which was, like, the point of the game, he was pretty sure, so. Good enough, right. He leaned over to ruffle Angus’ hair. “Gimme some skin, little man!”

Angus did, in fact, give him a high five, and it took every fucking ounce of Taako’s notably thin self-control to not smirk at Kravitz as he did.

“So, you ready for that good sweet treat we all crave?” Taako asked, taking Angus’ soccer bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m thinkin’ a scoop of that espresso stuff they got with caramel sauce. Maybe a sprinkle of salt on top?”

“That sounds really good, sir!” Angus said. “But—sir, would you mind if my Uncle Kravitz came with us? I know ice cream time is—I know it’s usually just the two of us, but I wouldn’t—I don’t want him to feel left out.”

Taako glanced down at Angus, then back to Kravitz, who looked just _unbearably_ smug, and then back at Angus.

He held back a groan.

“Sure thing, Ango,” he said. “You’re the, uh, Soccer King. ‘S all up to you.”

So Kravitz was coming to ice cream.

That was cool. Fine. Good, actually, because Taako still needed to absolutely confirm that he was, in fact, the best grown-up in Angus’ life, so.

“Do you want us to meet you there?” Kravitz asked, interrupting Taako’s train of thought. “I’m sure Angus can give me directions.”

Taako blinked at him.

Yeah, alright. Fine.

“Sounds good,” he said, grinning as best he could as he climbed into his car.

“Oh and—we can take Angus’ bag,” Kravitz said, pointing to the soccer bag slung over Taako’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to forget it.”

“Of course not,” Taako agreed, his smile growing even wider. “Couldn’t have that.”

**

Lup was sautéing shrimp when Taako stomped into _Tostaada’s_ kitchen, fists clenched and mouth twisted into a snarl.

“Woah there, momma bear, what the—what the fuck’s your damage, dude?” Lup asked as Taako threw on an apron, washed his hands, and grabbed a tomato and a knife.

“I fucking _hate_ him,” Taako said as he began to slice into the tomato. “He—he fucking shows up with a _water bottle_ , as if—as if that’s _fine_ —”

“Is that _not_ fine?”

“And he’s all, like, _oh, I played cello for some fancy orchestra in Neverwinter and I let Angus see dead bodies at my super creepy death job_ —fuck you, dude!”

“I don’t think that last one has anything to do with him and Angus—”

“And then! _And! Then!_ He invites himself to ice cream time! Just—okay, so maybe Angus invites him to ice cream time, but that wouldn’t’ve happened if he wasn’t _there_ —”

“Obviously.”

“He’s just—I don’t fucking like him, Lulu. He’s all over the place. One second, he seems like—like a normal, kinda decent person, and then a moment later—boom! He’s flies off the fucking handle and starts acting like the world’s biggest asshole and I—fuck, Lup. He’s awful and I think he’s bad for Angus,” Taako said, sliding the neatly diced tomato into a bowl before grabbing a cucumber.

“Do you _really_ think he’s bad for Angus?” Lup asked, “Or are you just scared of being replaced?”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not _scared_ —”

“You sure? ‘Cause you sound pretty scared—”

“I’m fucking—I’m _Taako_ , I don’t get _scared_ —”

“Oh really? So, you’re gonna tell me this isn’t fucking _exactly_ the shit you pulled when Barry and I first started hanging out? Huh? You’re gonna say that bullshit to my face?”

“Fuck you, Lup,” Taako grumbled, his knife coming down hard on the cucumber. “I just—I don’t trust him. You can’t—you can’t just _decide_ that you _suddenly_ care about a kid because it becomes _convenient for you_. That’s not—Lup, you and I both know—”

“Have you possibly considered that _maybe_ Kravitz isn’t as shitty as our family?” Lup asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Last night you agreed with me! Last night you were _just_ as suspicious as I was—”

“Yeah, and then I thought it over and—okay, so maybe he was _kinda_ a dick, but Taako? You definitely didn’t do yourself any favours, and if someone else wants to be involved in Angus' life? If someone else wants to help make sure he’s taken care of, shouldn’t we encourage that? For Angus’ sake?”

Taako groaned and tossed the cucumber into the bowl with the tomato. “I just—Lup, I’m worried—”

“And that’s fair. You love that kid, T, you’re allowed to be worried about him. But—give Kravitz a chance, yeah? And then if he fucks up? You can tell me you told me so _and_ we’ll kick his ass.”

Taako stopped for a moment and thought it over. “Deal,” he said, holding out his pinkie.

Lup took it without so much as a glance.

“So,” Taako said as he got to work on some olives, “how’d it go this morning? Obviously, things could’ve been better, you chucklefucks _were_ missing out on _moi_ , but, like, other than that. You guys haven’t ruined my reputation _yet_ , have you?”

Lup threw a dishtowel at him and rolled her eyes. “It was fine,” she said. “No one’s poked any holes in your precious ego, goofus.”

“Good.”

The only noise in the kitchen was the soft sizzle of the shrimp in Lup’s pan and steady, rhythmic _thunk_ of Taako’s knife against the cutting board.

“You ever think about how fucking wild this is?” Lup asked.

“What d’you mean?”

“Like—us. Here. Doing this. How well this is going.”

Taako glanced over at her for a moment. “I mean—not really? Like, yeah, things are going pretty good but—I guess I just don’t think about all that too often. Too busy thinking ahead, I guess.”

“Well, you should think about it more often,” Lup said. “We—Taako, we spent our childhood here, learning how to do this, and then—and now—”

Lup stopped and looked up at the ceiling, smiling softly.

“It’s crazy,” she whispered, looking back down at the pan in front of her. “We—we’re doing it, Taako. What Auntie—we’re doing what she always wanted to do.”

“Huh,” Taako said, looking over at his sister. She was smiling, and Taako couldn’t help but smile, too. “I guess we are.”

**

Taako spent the first hour of _Sunday family dinner night_ sitting in Merle’s backyard next to the honeysuckle bush.

Merle had planted the honeysuckle bush in his backyard three days after Taako and Lup moved in with him.

They'd been young and angry, just barely twelve years old and fresh from their aunt's funeral when Merle brought them into his little cottage on the edge of Phandalin. He'd dragged them out into the yard on that third day, honeysuckle in his hands, and explained that he planted something new in his garden for every important day. He pointed out the line tree he planted when he and Hecuba got married, the hydrangea he planted when they got divorced, the tulips for Mavis' first steps and the cactus for Mookie's birth.

He'd planted that honeysuckle there next to everything else, and for the first time since his aunt had gotten sick, Taako had felt like maybe things would turn out okay.

There were more plants, now. Lavender for when Magnus moved in. Blackberries for when Taako and Lup graduated. A bed of irises for when they reopened _Tostaada's._ A red rose bush for when Barry finally proposed, and a white one for when Magnus proposed to Julia after the fourth date. An oak tree for when Davenport retired.

The honeysuckle, though. It was still Taako's favourite. He sat beside it in one of Merle's ugly as sin deck chairs, letting the sweet smell wash over him as he scribbled into the beat-up old notebook that sat on his lap. 

It was part recipe book, part journal, all disaster, written in messy, slanted Elvish, mostly illegible on account of the handwriting and the atrocious spelling.

Taako twirled his pen between his fingers as he thought about budgeting and boy detectives and blackberry cobbler.

“You alright, kid?” Merle asked, shocking Taako so much that he dropped his pen.

“Fucking— _fuck_ , Merle! Are you actively trying to scare the shit outta me?”

“Maybe not _actively_ , but I’ll admit it’d be a nice bonus,” Merle said, dragging one of his deck chairs behind him.

Taako rolled his eyes. “What d’you want, old man? I already said Lu is on dinner duty tonight, Taako’s tapping the fuck _out_ —”

“How y’doin’, kiddo?” Merle interrupted, hoisting himself up into his chair.

“I—Good? Is that—I’m good? Like, obvs, Taako’s always good, natch, but—I’m doing fucking _dandy_ , Merle. Of course,” Taako said. “We—is something wrong? Did something happen? Did Mags finally go and get himself fucking killed?”

“Nah, nah, Maggie’s fine. Just wanted to check up on you,” Merle said casually before narrowing his eyes. “You sure you’re alright, kid?”

“ _Yes_ , I’m sure! My man, Taako is—we’re operating at one-hundo percent capacity, y’know? Got the cafe, got Lup, got Barry, got Ren and Magnus, and Ang—the kid’s doing alright I—I think, anyway. ‘S all good here in Taako-Town,” Taako rambled.

Merle nodded a bit and shrugged. “That’s good to hear, bud. I—Guess I just wanted to make sure you’re still doin’ okay. I know—I know you were lookin’ forward to doing somethin’ bigger, y’know? Just wanted—wanted to make sure you’re happy, is all,” he said casually. “You—you’re my kid, Taako, an’ I—I care about you, you know that, so—”

“I’m fine,” Taako said, quietly, staring down at his hands. “I—Really, Merle, I’m fine. Taako’s—Taako’s good over here.”

Merle stared at him for another long moment before reaching over and patting the top of his hand. “Your sister said dinner’ll be ready in twenty,” he said, and then clambered back to his feet and made his way back inside the little house.

Taako nodded, took a deep breath, and turned back to his notebook.

**

“So,” Taako said, glancing at Angus out of the corner of his eye, “how’re things in Ango-ville? All good? Up to any—any new and exciting nerd shit?”

The week had been… slow. Uninteresting. Taako had to keep reminding himself not to make any food for Angus. Once, he’d been halfway through making quesadillas before he remembered, and then he’d just had four quesadillas that he didn’t know what to do with.

Lup made fun of him for twenty-five minutes.

It was fine.

He’d almost ( _almost_ ) been worried the kid wouldn’t show up for lessons that Friday evening, but sure enough, there Angus was, standing outside of _Tostaada’s_ kitchen door at 3:30 on the dot.

They were standing at Taako’s workstation now, Taako searing chicken breast in a spicy chile sauce while Angus tossed together diced mango, avocado, cilantro, onion, and lime juice.

His dicing skills were getting a lot better. The mango was in cubes instead of weird dodecahedrons.

“I, uh, I suppose everything is going well, sir,” Angus said. ”I had a vocabulary test yesterday in history, and I was the only person in the class who scored a perfect 100%, so that was nice—”

“Hell yeah kid, that’s—show those snot-nosed brats who’s the—the _goat_ —”

“Taako, please stop trying to use sports slang.”

“Oh, now that you’ve asked? Absolutely fucking not.”

Angus huffed but didn’t try to argue.

He knew better.

“The science fair is tomorrow, which is very exciting—” he said instead but was very quickly interrupted.

“Ah shit, is that the dead guys one?”

“I—yes, sir—”

Taako stared at him for a moment. “That’s—I mean, I can’t say I didn’t do some buckwild shit in my youth because Taako was and still is the life of the party and that would be a _lie_ , but I gotta—gotta admit, bubbeleh, the dead dude stuff is kinda—that’s some pretty next-level weird shit, y’know?”

“I know,” Angus said with a nod, “but if I’m going to be the world’s greatest detective, I need to be prepared for every circumstance, including those with dead dudes.”

“I mean, I guess as long as you’re self-aware,” Taako replied with a shrug. “And no keeping dead shit in my fridge—”

“Aren’t most meats categorised as _dead_ , sir?”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you said _most_ ,” Taako said, “and instead tell you to stop being a know-it-all. Fucking— _no one_ likes a know-it-all, m’kay kid? That’s just—that’s just some _patented Taako wisdom_ from me to you. No one likes a know-it-all and no dead shit in my fridge. Gods know we have a hard enough time convincing Barry to not keep his _experiments_ in there.”

Angus smiled. “I’d love to see Mr. Barry’s experiments sometime—”

“No, you defo wouldn’t. Trust me,” Taako promised. “So this science fair, huh? D’you need a ride? Like—you’re gonna have a poster board and shit, right? That’s what you dorks do for science fairs? Posters and—and stuff? You don’t want to have to haul all of that across town, bubbeleh.”

“Oh, I—I really appreciate it, Taako,” Angus said, scraping another helping of avocado into the mango chutney, “but my Uncle Kravitz is already driving me.”

“Oh?” Taako asked. “That thug’s still hanging around?”

“I—yes?”

“That’s—nice,” Taako said. “Right? He’s—nice. To you.”

“Oh, yes sir,” Angus affirmed. “He’s been very helpful in making sure I get to soccer practice on time and that Grandfather takes all his medications on time.”

“Good, good. I’m glad you have someone to, uh. Help,” Taako said.

Angus _looked_ okay. Same ol’—same ol’ nerdy button-up, same ol’ sweater vest, same ol’ khaki shorts, knee socks, oxfords, and newsboy cap. Same ol’ circular, wire-rim, nerdy as fuck glasses.

Same ol’ Angus.

“Sir, I understand your wariness about my uncle, and I’ll admit I had my own suspicions at first, but—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, kid,” Taako interrupted. “I’m not—why would I be worried, huh? He’s your—he’s your uncle, and so far, he seems to be, like, a major asshole but hey, fuck, so am I, so that’s no fucking thing—”

“Taako,” Angus interrupted. “It’s okay. I know you’re just being weird because you care about me, but Kravitz seems really okay. If he—if he starts pulling some horseshit, I’ll tell you, sir, I promise.”

Taako sputtered as he flipped the chicken in the pan. “That—me? Care? Me? Taako? Caring? About people? Taako? Me? No. Don’t be an idiot, boychik, it’s not a good look on you.”

Angus rolled his eyes. “Of course, sir. I’ll try to do better in the future.”

For a moment, the kitchen was quiet—or as quiet as a kitchen ever is—before Taako cleared his throat and said, “But you—you promise you’ll say something if, y’know—if something—like, I get that he’s your uncle but just because he’s _related to you_ doesn’t mean he’s, like, a _good person_ , so, like—if shit happens, you gotta promise that you’ll—”

“I promise,” Angus said sincerely, and then a moment later continued. “The science fair starts at ten-thirty, by the way.”

Taako glanced over at him, this kid who, for some reason, decided to cling to him like a limpet. 

This kid, who was too smart for his own damn good.

“I’ll bring you lunch.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uncle Kravitz, would you like to come to my celebration dinner tonight?” Angus interrupted, grinning up at Kravitz, the absolute picture of innocence.
> 
> Shit
> 
> Taako had trained the kid well.
> 
> Maybe a little too well.
> 
> Shit.
> 
> “I—am I invited?” Kravitz asked.
> 
> “I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m trying to do, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's! family! dinner! time!
> 
> finally, writing about something I have experience with.
> 
> also, I just thought i'd mention that every meal mentioned in this story is something I can and have cooked and they're all damn good, so if something mentioned in this disasterpiece sounds like something you'd like to try , hit me up on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel, and I will be more than happy to impart upon you my infinite cooking wisdom.

Taako knew a science fair was, like, a nerd thing, but _holy ass shit_.

This was…

This was some next level dweeb shit.

For as far as the eye could fucking see, there were small, goofy-looking kids, most of whom had some unfortunate glasses/braces/bangs combination that gave Taako hives just looking at it, stood with big cardboard posters covered in what looked like the entire fantasy-Walmart crafts’ aisle.

And there, in the middle of it all, standing in front of a tri-fold board proudly proclaiming _Determining Time Of Death Using Internal Temperature_ , was Angus McDonald, looking even spiffier than usual.

“Look at you, Mr. Fancy Boy,” Taako said as he came to stand beside the kid. “You look like you’re about to meet the fantasy president.”

“Oh, hello, sir!” Angus said, turning to face Taako with a grin on his face. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Well, the boner squad hasn’t blown up our spot yet, so I figured they could make it 30 minutes without me holding their hands. Worst comes to worst, Lup and Ren’ll keep the place from burning down, so,” he said before tossing a brown paper bag at Angus, who fumbled with it for a moment before catching it. “That’s, uh, chicken salad. Craisins, spinach, avocado, vinaigrette. Croutons, natch. I think there’s some tomato in there, but I made it last night so I’m not sure.”

“Thank you, sir,” Angus said, a smile on his face. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Ango, I don’t _have_ to do _anything_ ,” Taako said, rolling his eyes. “You talk to the judges yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You blow ‘em out of the water?” Taako asked. “Show ‘em who’s boss? Leave ‘em wanting more?”

“I mean, I knew the answers to all their questions,” Angus replied, “and they seemed interested enough, so that’s good.”

“Yes, okay, but did you _fucking kill it_ , Agnes? Did you leave all these baby dorks in the fucking _dust_? Should I be preparing a celebratory feast in your honour?” Taako asked.

Angus paused for a moment, tapping on his chin, the perfect picture of thoughtfulness and contemplation, before grinning widely and saying, “Yup!”

“Fuck yeah kid! That’s how we do!” Taako said, giving Angus a high five. “Whatcha feeling like for dinner? It’ll be late, but if you swing by at about nine, we can get this shit _started_.”

Angus smiled. “Could you make those kebabs again? The ones you made on the last day of school last year?” he asked.

“Hell yeah little man! I won’t even make you help chop up the vegetables as a _good job kicking ass_ treat.”

Angus giggled. “I’ve really missed your cooking, Taako. Uncle Kravitz isn’t _bad_ , but he—”

“He ain’t ch’boy.”

“No, he isn’t,” Angus agreed.

“Speaking of Jack Skellington, where’s he at? Isn’t he supposed to be here to, like, supervise you? Make sure you don’t get fucking— _snatched_ or something?”

“Oh, I told him he could walk around and look at the other projects,” Angus said. “I can take care of myself, sir. I am ten.”

Taako wrinkled his nose at that.

Okay, so, like, _technically_ , yes, Angus _could_ take care of himself, but Taako could _also_ technically never have salsa again. Just because someone _could_ do something didn’t mean they should _have to_ do the thing.

“Alright,” Taako said. “That’s—okay. Sure. Well, if he ever comes back, there’s an extra salad in there for him. I figured you, uh—you wouldn’t want him to starve or whatever.”

He hadn’t wanted to. He still hated that asshole, but Lup had _insisted_ and Taako hadn’t wanted to fight about it, so.

“That was really nice of you, sir—”

“Hey Ango? Shut up,” Taako said, scowling and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll sue you for libel, okay? I don’t care that you’re fucking four years old or whatever, I’ll do it.”

“Alright, sir,” Angus replied, still smiling. “Do you need to head back to the shop? Not that—not that I don’t want you here, but I know that you don’t like to be away for too long if you don’t have to be, and I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you or anything—”

“Kid. Chillax, m’kay?” Taako said, flicking at the bill of Angus’ ever-present cap. “When I need to dip, I’ll dip, alright?”

“Alright,” Angus said. “In that case, d’you wanna look at my board? I took all the pictures by myself!”

A quick glance at the board confirmed Taako’s suspicion that, yup, all the pictures were, in fact, _photographs of dead bodies._

“They look good, D’Jango,” Taako said. “I mean—they look dead as hell, but that’s sorta—I think that’s sorta the whole… _thing_ , so.”

Angus giggled. “Well, I _did_ take the photos in a morgue, and they were _cadavers, so_ if they _didn’t_ look dead, I’d be pretty worried, sir.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “When’d you get so cheeky, huh? You didn’t used to have such a mouth on you.”

“I also didn’t use to apprentice under the self-proclaimed _biggest asshole in New Elfington_ , so,” Angus said, and Taako couldn't help but laugh.

His laughter was cut off by someone talking from behind him. “Angus,” the voice said, “have you seen the exhibit on the effects of propionic acid on the human body? It seems like something you’d be interested in—uhhhhh. Erm. Hello, Taako.”

The last two words were said in a shitty fantasy-British accent.

Taako raised his eyebrows and slowly turned to face Kravitz, a wide, hopefully not too obviously fake smile on his face.

“How’s it hanging, Grim?”

“Oh, uh—well?” Kravitz replied, seemingly a little confused as to how to respond.

Good.

Step one was to throw ‘em off their rhythm.

“Cool, cool,” Taako said nodding slowly. “Well, I was just dropping off Nancy Drew’s lunch, so—”

“Uncle Kravitz, would you like to come to my celebration dinner tonight?” Angus interrupted, grinning up at Kravitz, the absolute picture of innocence.

Shit

Taako had trained the kid well.

Maybe a little _too_ well.

 _Shit_.

“I—am I invited?” Kravitz asked.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m trying to do, sir.”

“Oh,” Kravitz said, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat and pulling his shoulders back. “In that case, I—I’d be happy to, Angus. What time should I be ready for dinner?”

“We’re gonna go to Taako’s at nine,” Angus said. “We’re making kebabs!”

“That sounds lovely,” Kravitz said, glancing between Taako and Angus. “Should I bring something? Drinks? Or—”

“Dude. He’s ten,” Taako interrupted.

Taako couldn’t really tell, but he was _pretty sure_ Kravitz was blushing, which, uh. Fucking wild. “I meant—soda. Or—or juice. Milk? Something kid-friendly. Non-alcoholic.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“I’m gonna—go. To the restroom,” Kravitz said quickly, before turning on his heel and leaving.

Taako frowned as he watched him go. That was… weird. Usually, Kravitz was, like, an asshole, but not an overly awkward one. Snappy, yes. Rude, yes. Prissy, yes. Terrible at fantasy-cockney accents, yes.

But anxious? Bumbling? Nervous?

That’d never seemed to be Kravitz’s thing.

“What the fuck’s _his_ problem?” Taako asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do I smell? Do I have the plague and I’m just now learning about it? Is he—is he afraid of catching the gay, all the sudden?”

“Oh, Uncle Kravitz caught the gay a long time ago, sir,” Angus said. “I think he’s just nervous because I told him to stop being so mean to you all the time.”

“Really?” Taako asked.

“Yes, sir. I care about you a lot and I don’t want him to make you unhappy, so I told him to stop being a shithead,” Angus said, beaming up at Taako. “And also to stop doing that voice, but I guess he forgot that part.”

Taako put his hands on his hips, tilted his head to the side, and stared as Kravitz disappeared into the ocean of embarrassing adolescent nerd-dom.

“Huh.”

**

Angus arrived at _Tostaada’s_ back door at nine p.m. _sharp_ , a bottle of wild-cherry fantasy Pepsi in one hand and a massive golden trophy in the other, grinning like a loon.

“So,” Taako said as he opened the door, doing his best not to smile. “Did you win?”

Angus laughed and quickly plowed into Taako’s stomach, wrapping his arms around Taako’s waist. “I did!” he said. “The judges—they said they were impressed by my originality and dedication. Apparently, no one had ever done anything with tee-oh-dee before, and they were really impressed by how much data I collected—”

“Wow, I can’t believe fucking around with dead dudes isn’t a more popular science fair topic—”

“Taako, would you let them inside instead of forcing them to stand there with the door wide open? You’re letting in all the flies,” Lup said, and Taako rolled his eyes.

“Alright, okay, come on in, Boy Wonder,” he said, stepping aside. Angus rushed to put down his trophy and soda and gave Barry, Lup, and Magnus each a quick hug, leaving the doorway wide open for Kravitz, who stood awkwardly outside with another bottle of pop (fantasy Sprite—little boys didn’t need caffeine at nine p.m.) and an anxious look on his face.

Taako raised his eyebrows. “You coming in or staying out, Grim?”

“I—I’m coming in, sorry,” Kravitz said before bumbling up the steps. “I just didn’t—I’m sorry.”

“No sweat, bubbeleh, just—put the drink down and wash your hands. This is a _nobody eats for free_ establishment,” Taako said, rolling his eyes.

The kid must’ve really done a number on the poor guy. He looked like he was about to shit himself.

“So, they liked your project?” Barry asked as Angus tied on his apron. 

“I mean, I won first prize, so—”

“Yeah, alright,” Barry said, rolling his eyes. “Y’know, I majored in forensics for undergrad. Spent a lot of time in the lab doing tests with the livor mortis and the standardised cooling curve—it’s all really interesting stuff.”

“I agree, sir!” Angus said. “I wasn’t able to use actual human or otherwise humanoid subjects for my project because the police department still won’t allow me to assist with homicide cases, but—”

“Okay, alright, that—that’s enough dead guy talk for one evening,” Taako interrupted. “Hachi machi, am I the only normal person here? Am I surrounded by nerds and dweebs and goths and—and Magnus?”

“Hey! What does _and Magnus_ mean?” Magnus asked. He’d decided to stay for Angus’ victory dinner instead of going to Julia and their 26,000 dogs, and was now carefully cutting up bell peppers with all the caution and precision of a rookie brain surgeon.

“It means one time you gave Lucretia a wooden duck _carved to look like her_ for Candlenights. That’s—look me in the eye and tell me that’s not some dweeb shit.”

“I’d say it’s _good friend_ shit—”

“Sounds like something a dweeb would say,” Taako argued.

“Gotta agree with my baby bro here, Mags—”

“I’m older than you—”

“You are, officially, a dweeb. I, on the other hand—” Lup started to argue, but Taako cut her off by throwing a piece of diced tomato at her head.

“Lup, my dearest, darlingest sister,” he said in a saccharine voice. “What did you major in?”

Lup glared at him. “Forensics,” she admitted, but Taako wasn’t done with her yet.

“ _And_?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Astrophysics,” she said finally. “But in my defence—”

“Nope! Nuh-uh! No defending that, sis!” Taako said. “That’s some certified, undeniable nerd shit right there! No ands, ifs, or buts about it!”

“Yeah, because majoring in culinary arts and _molecular chemistry_ isn’t nerdy at all!” Lup argued, and Taako scowled at her.

“Cooking is _cool_ —”

“And chemistry? Yeah, defo, broski, that isn’t some _dork-ass shit_ , not at fucking _all_ —”

“Fuck you,” Taako grumbled, turning back to the onion he was slicing.

Angus blinked at him. “I didn’t know you were into chemistry, sir,” he said, his head tilted to the side.

“It was mostly to help with the cooking,” Taako muttered. “And it’s not like I was any good at it—”

“You were in the top ten percent of your class, T,” Lup interrupted. “You were getting job offers from multiple labs as an _undergrad student_.”

“Look, as much as I love the attention,” Taako said quickly, grinning at everyone in the room, “tonight's about the _kid’s_ scientific achievements, not mine, alright? Ango, get the chicken out of the fridge. It should be in a white container with a vinaigrette marinade.”

Angus crossed over to the fridge, but Taako could see him narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he passed.

Looked like Poirot Jr. wouldn’t be dropping this case any time soon.

Great.

The kebabs were easy enough to make—Taako had been marinating the chicken and veggies since he got back from the science air—and soon enough the whole kitchen smelled of grilling meat and onions.

“D’you do Kosher too?” Taako found himself asking Kravitz as he turned the skewers. “If you do that's fine, obviously. Everything we make for Angus is Kosher, so you’ll be fine to eat tonight, but…”

Taako’s words trailed off as he lost where he was going with his question. But _what_?

Kravitz stared at him for a moment before looking away.

“I… not really,” he replied. “I used to, back when I was living at home and my parents cooked everything, but it’s hard to keep up when you’re on your own—at least it was for me.”

“I get that.”

“I still don’t eat a lot of pork, but that’s more because I never developed a taste for it than anything else,” Kravitz continued. “But, uh, it’s been a learning curve, for sure, cooking for Angus. The other night I had to order take out because I made fantasy Hamburger Helper and—”

“The dairy and meat thing, yeah,” Taako said with a nod. He looked over at Angus, who was cheerfully discussing the merits and reliability of DNA evidence with Barry and Lup as he drank a fantasy Sprite. “Took me a minute to figure it all out, but, like—the kid deserves that respect, y’know? I mean—I mean _everyone_ deserves respect for their practices and beliefs unless those beliefs and practices are, like, some hateful bullshit, but Angus—he’s better than most.”

“He is,” Kravitz agreed. “And I do believe I have you to thank for much of that.”

Taako looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “What the fuck’s _that_ supposed to mean, kemosabe?”

“Only that—only that you’ve been good to him, and good _for_ him—”

“Duh, dude. He’s a kid. I’m not a dick to kids, my man—”

“Taako, what you do goes far beyond _not acting like a dick_ ,” Kravitz insisted. “I mean—the food, and the cooking lessons, and the parent-teacher conferences—which Angus told me about, so don’t try and deny it—and today at the science fair and, hell, even all of this—you do so much for him, Taako—”

“Okay, alright—”

“And I—I do think I owe you an apology,” Kravitz said, steamrolling right over Taako’s protests. “My attitude and behaviour towards you has been shameful, honestly. It was childish and immature and born from a place of jealousy, insecurity, and fear, but that’s not an excuse. I promise to change going forward, and I—I ask you to forgive me, Taako.”

Taako stared at Kravitz for a moment, mouth agape as he processed what Kravitz was saying. Finally, his jaw clicked shut and he cleared his throat. “I, uh—I mean, it takes two to tango, eh, Grim? Like, I defo—I definitely could’ve, uh, reacted better to your whole general, like… presence. And shit,” he said lamely. “So, like. My bad too, I guess. Some of this is, um. Some of it is defo on me.”

Kravitz smiled what might’ve been the first real smile Taako had seen on his face since he’d met him.

It was—

Well. It sure was _something_.

And not a bad something.

Fucking— _anyway_.

“So,” Kravitz said, offering out his hand. “Water under the bridge?”

Taako grinned. “Absolutely my good dude,” he said. “And I’d shake your hand, but I’m pretty sure mine are covered in chicken juice and vinaigrette, so.”

“Probably for the best that we don’t, then,” Kravitz said.

“Yeah, uh—yes. On this we are—on this, we are agreed.”

Kravitz laughed, a small, quiet thing, and Taako could feel his ears heating up.

Cool. Super cool. Totally.

Make peace with your nemesis and _immediately_ start being… _affected_ by his whole—everything.

Way to go, Taako.

Way to keep it classy.

Fuck.

“Does this you guys will stop having the pettiest fucking feud in history?” Lup asked from her spot at the counter. “Because, uh, lemme tell you, listening to Taako bitch about it was getting real fucking old real fucking quick.”

“You’re a fucking—you’re a godsdamn menace, you know that?” Taako asked, rolling his eyes. “I dunno how Barry puts up with you, like, voluntarily.”

“It’s mostly because I’m hot. Right, Bear?”

Barry turned bright red and took a long drink of his fantasy Pepsi. “I—I mean you’re also smart and, uh, funny. Compassionate. Caring. Uhhhhh—energetic—”

“Hell yeah I am—”

“ _Okay_ ,” Taako interrupted. “That’s _officially_ all I need to hear about _that_ , so. We’ll be talking about something else, now.”

“Like what?”

“Like—like Ango! Agnes! D’Jangus, Unchained! Everyone’s favourite fancy boy and baby fantasy Sherlock—what’d you learn about in school today, kiddo?”

Angus blinked at him twice and slowly held up his trophy. “Uh, sir, it’s Saturday,” he explained. “I—I had the science fair today? They hold it on Saturdays so they don’t have to pull everyone out of class—”

“Well that’s super fucking lame,” Lup said.

“I suppose it is, a little bit, ma’am, but nevertheless, I—I wouldn’t have had school today, anyway. Because it’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, alright, okay, I get it,” Taako grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Look, kid, this family’s already got a wise-cracking smart ass, m’kay? That position is thoroughly _filled_. _Sooooo_ , I’m gonna need you to find something else to do and hop off my IP, capiche?”

Angus giggled. “I capiche.”

“Damn right you do,” Taako agreed. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”

“That was really sweet and I’m really sorry to interrupt such a wholesome moment,” Magnus interrupted, “But like, is that food almost done? I’m fucking _starving_.”

Taako scowled at him and glanced over at the grill. “Give it ten more minutes. I don’t—what with salmonella and—food poisoning,” he replied, the words getting progressively softer as he went. He shook his head and grinned. “In the meantime, are we eating in here or at, like, a table.”

“It’s a special occasion,” Barry said. “I’ll set a table.”

Kravitz looked between Taako, Lup, and Barry and Magnus, who were pulling plates and napkins and utensils from a nearby cupboard, and furrowed his brows. “Do you guys not usually eat at a table?” he asked.

“Dude, who the fuck eats at a table?” Taako asked. “Usually it’s a miracle if we eat dinner at all.”

“Oh,” Kravitz said. “I—Is there any way I can be of help?”

“Sure, buddy,” Barry said, passing Kravitz a stack of plates as he and Magnus headed into the dining room. “Take these and follow me.”

Kravitz shot Taako one more look, and Taako shooed him off. “Go on then, Gomez. Barry won’t bite,” he said.

“Holy fuck,” Lup said as Kravitz and Barry left the kitchen. “You like Kravitz!”

“What? No!” Taako argued. “I don’t—what? That’s ridiculous! Lup, up until, _uhhhhh_ , ten minutes ago, I couldn’t stand the guy, and now you think I _like_ him?”

“No, I _know_ you like him,” Lup said, smirking at Taako. “I’ve known you for a long time, bro-bro, and that look? That one there? That’s the look of an elf with a _crush_ —”

“Would you _shut up_?” Taako asked. “I don’t have a _crush_ on Kravitz because _one_ , I’m not fucking _twelve_ , and _two_ , I barely fucking know the guy, and what I _do_ know I’ve mostly, uh, _hated_ , so—no. Nope. Nuh-uh. No crushes here, no siree.”

Lup raised an eyebrow at him and folded her arms over her chest.

“I—you can ask Ango! It’s all one-hundo percent platonic up in here, right?”

Lup looked over at Angus, who looked equal parts horrified and curious. “I—well, admittedly, most of the time Taako and Uncle Kravitz have spent together they spent fighting,” he said.

“See! See! I told you!”

“ _But_ , to be fair, Taako fights with _everyone_ , so that might not completely rule out all possibilities of, uh. Liking him,” Angus continued, and then cleared his throat. “Actually, sir, ma’am, this is an incredibly uncomfortable conversation for me, personally, seeing as I _am_ ten and you two _are_ discussing my uncle, so, uh, I think I’m going to go see if Uncle Kravitz and Mr. Barry and Mr. Magnus need any help. Bye!”

And with that, the boy rushed out of the kitchen.

“Good job, Lulu,” Taako said. “You’ve traumatised my boy.”

“I didn’t—he’s not _traumatised_ , and even if he _was_ , you’re the one who asked him,” Lup insisted. “I just—Taako—”

“Look, Lup, I’m _good_ , alright?” Taako snapped. “Like—Taako—Taako’s good out here, okay? I don’t need any of that _romance_ shit, I’m _fine_ , plus—I wouldn’t have time for it, anyway, and—”

Taako cut himself off, poking at the kebabs with a fork. “You remember what happened the last time I—the last time I messed around with any of that,” he muttered. “You really think it’s a good idea to risk going through all of that _again_?”

Lup sighed and quickly gave him a shoulder-squeeze. “Okay,” she said. “If you—if you say you don’t like him, I trust you. If you say you don’t want anything romantic right now, I trust you. I just—T, I want you to be happy, y’know?”

“I know,” Taako agreed. “And I—I am, mostly. Like, at _least_ 78% happy. It’s cool, okay? I’m good. I—I mean, I’ve got you, don’t I? Got you, got Magnus and Merle and Barry and the rest of the doofus squad, I guess, got the kid, kinda, in a sorta mentor-mentee, definitely _not_ parental way, got the restaurant and shit, so like—everything’s fine, Lup. Really.”

“Okay,” Lup said, pressing a quick kiss to Taako’s cheek. “I love you.”

Taako gagged and quickly wiped off his cheek. “You’re disgusting,” he grumbled. “I love you too, goofus.”

“Hey, uh, the table’s set,” Magnus said, popping his head back into the kitchen. “Whenever you guys are, um. Whenever you guys are ready.”

Taako narrowed his eyes. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Just—just the last part, pretty much,” Magnus admitted, and Taako huffed.

“You take that shit to the grave, alright, Burnsides? Not a fucking word to _anyone_ or else I’ll light your ass up and throw you off a cliff, and that’s no fucking joke. Comprende?”

Magnus nodded and Taako could see just a hint of a smile on his face. “Of course, Taako. Dunno what else I’d expect.”

“You can expect me to fucking— _recalibrate your spine_ if you mention this again, Burnsides."

Magnus smiled and pulled his head out of the kitchen door.

“Taako, you realise he’s known us both for basically ever, right? Like, he knows—”

“He doesn’t know jack shit,” Taako interrupted. “Get a platter and some pita bread, would you? These things’ll be done any second now.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

“That’s the brand, my dude. Gotta keep it consistent.”

Lup scoffed but brought over the platter and bread. “Honey mustard for the kid, right?” she asked as she turned to root through the fridge.

“Honey mustard for the kid,” Taako confirmed, “and—”

“Barbeque for Barry, teriyaki for me, ketchup for Maggie, that sriracha honey stuff you’re obsessed with, and—what about Kravitz?”

“What about him?”

“D’you know his sauce preferences?”

“Hey Lu?”

“Yeah, T?”

“Why _the fuck_ ,” Taako asked, “would I know Kravitz’s sauce preferences?”

“I dunno,” Lup replied. “Figured it might’ve come up during one of your _heated conversations_. You got some pretty passionate sauce opinions, bro, I wouldn’t be surprised if you raked his goth ass over the coals for liking ranch with his chicken or something.”

“Well, for starters, anyone who eats chicken with ranch deserves any—any _ass-raking_ they get, so just—just jot that one down, for me, please,” Taako said. “And for—and for _seconders_ , most of that time was spent, like—sitting. In brooding silence. Or something equally emo and over-dramatic. They guy’s not exactly an _over-sharer_.”

“Well, that makes one of you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Taako said, glaring at his sister as he placed the kebabs on the platter. “Grab the soda, will you?”

“Of course, your highness.”

“Finally,” Taako said, kicking the kitchen door open and heading out into the dining room. “I’m getting the respect I deserve.”

“How’s that, sir?” Angus asked, pushing himself up onto his knees in his seat.

“Lup’s finally come to terms with my royal status—”

“A royal pain in the ass, maybe,” Barry muttered into his glass of fantasy-Pepsi, and Taako stumbled back as Lup cackled behind him.

“Barold,” he gasped, placing the platter full of kebabs on the table they were all sitting at before falling back against the table beside them, “my nearest, _dearest_ friend. Truly, you wound me—”

“Can we _please_ eat these fuckers?” Lup interrupted. “Please?”

“Fine,” Taako said, plopping down dramatically into the chair across from Kravitz. “Ango, you wanna do the honours?”

Angus grinned. “Of course, sir!” he said, taking a kebab skewer and a piece of pita bread. “I was really anxious about the science fair this morning, which wasn’t great, but I got it under control! And then I _won_ the science fair and now I get to eat dinner with my whole family, pretty much!”

Taako reached over to flick the brim of Angus’ cap. “You can’t say that _every time_ , my dude.”

“But it’s always true!” Angus argued. “It’s always the high point of my day, Taako.”

Taako smiled and rolled his eyes. “Sure, short stack. If you say so. Barold, you’re up. Make it snappy, I’m starving.”

Barry took the platter from Angus and served himself, but before he could speak, he was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“What’s up, kemosabe?” Taako asked, looking over at Kravitz, who looked moderately terrified.

“I just—I wanted to know what’s happening? Like, what’s going on?” Kravitz asked, looking between the other people sitting around the table. “If I don’t—if that’s not my place I understand, but, uh…”

“It’s _highs and lows_ , sir,” Angus said simply, and Taako had to resist the urge to scowl. This was fine. Kravitz was _fine_ , apparently. He was allowed—he was allowed to know about their, uh. Things. Routines. And stuff. It was cool.

Kravitz blinked. “I—Angus, that doesn’t really—”

“It’s kinda a game, pretty much. We, uh—me and T started doing it when we were younger and we just… never stopped,” Lup said with a shrug. “Basically, before you can get your food you have to say what the _low_ of your day was, and then what the _high_ of your day was. Lows always go first that way we end on a high note.”

“Literally,” Barry added.

“Oh,” Kravitz said. “That’s—that’s nice.”

“Ain’t it, though?” Taako asked. “It’s also, coincidentally, taking a _long-ass fucking time_. Like I don’t know if you knuckleheads heard me when I said _starving_ but, uh, if you all don’t hurry it up you’re going to have to post interviews for a new head chef tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” Barry said before smiling. “My low—I mean, I didn’t really have one? Today was, like, good, but, uh, Taako, when you dipped out to take Angus his lunch, we _did_ have a bit of a rush and I…”

Lup was grinning like a fool as her fiancé’s words trailed off. “Go on then, babe,” she said. “Tell ‘em what happened. It’s the name of the game, after all.”

Barry sighed. “I tripped,” he said. “I tripped and I landed on my ass and I dumped a whole bowl of salad down my front in front of a packed house. So yeah. That wasn’t _great_.”

Taako could help but laugh. “Doesn’t sound great, my good dude.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Barry continued. “The high was probably, um. I got to spend a lot of time with Lup today? Like, before Magnus came in, it was just the two of us, and that was n—”

“ _No_ ,” Taako interrupted, pushing the food platter in front of Lup. “Nope. Nuh-uh. None of that, not here, not in _my_ establishment. Absolutely fucking _not_. Barold, your turn is over. Lup, it’s your turn, and you better not pull that same bullshit, or I’ll dump Angus’ honey mustard into your hair.”

“Sir, please don’t. I need that for my chicken.”

“Then you’d better fucking hope my sister keeps it classy, huh?”

Lup glared at Taako for a moment before sighing and rolling her eyes. “Well _my_ high point of the day was not having to deal with your whiny bitch ass for an hour, _so_ ,” she said.

“Nice. Very original, Lu. How about next you complain about how I always hog the television, huh? Maybe you could talk about how I always eat your leftover pasta? Bitch about me using your shampoo? Draw a penis on my forehead? Is that—are we _there_? Is _that_ where we’re at in terms of sibling-based humour?”

“Considering you just threw a bitch fit about my fiancé saying he _enjoys spending time with me_ , yeah, buddy, I think it is.”

“Fair.”

“If not having to deal with Taako was your high point, what was your low point, Miss Lup?” Angus asked and Lup grinned.

“When he came back, obviously.”

“Typical,” Taako grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Absolutely typical. So, if we’ve all had our fun with _the most overused bit in comedic history_ , can we, uh, _get a fucking move on_? Please? Lup, you said you were fucking starving so why don’t you act on it, _my good fucking dude_ , and hurry the fuck up?”

Lup scoffed before shoving the platter of food in front of him. “Alright then, Miss Priss,” she said. “Your turn.”

Angus leaned forward and grinned. “What were your highs and lows today, sir?” he asked.

Taako hummed and tapped his chin. “I—well, the low of my day was getting _mercilessly bullied_ by my _own family_ after I spent _hours_ slaving away in the kitchen to make them this meal—”

“You little crybaby—”

“And I guess the high was getting to see my boy absolutely kick ass at nerd-fest. Carrying on the grand tradition of making everyone else look bad, I’m so proud.”

“ _Your_ boy, huh?” Lup asked with a smirk as Taako piled food onto his plate.

“You see anyone else teaching him how to cook?” Taako asked. “God knows Tall, Dark, and Brooding over there isn’t.”

To his credit, Kravitz didn’t even attempt to protest.

“Is that how you figure out whose kid someone is? By who taught them how to cook?” Magnus asked

“Yup,” Taako said. “If the kid isn’t yours, you’re not going to give them a knife.”

“You—y'know what? That tracks. Asked and—asked and answered.”

“Do you—do you really mean that, Taako?” Angus asked from Taako’s other side, and Taako rolled his eyes.

“Do I look like a liar to you, kid?”

“Actually, sir, yes, yes you do.”

“That also tracks,” Lup interjected, and Taako subtly flipped her off.

“Well, I—I’m not, this time,” he said with a shrug. “That’s a one-hundo percent Taako honesty guarantee.”

For a moment, the table was silent.

“Alright, well,” Taako said, clearing his throat and shoving the plate full of kebabs in Magnus’ direction. “Your turn, my dude.”

“Well, uh, the low point of my day was probably this morning. Carey and I went and spared before work and, uh, she pretty much kicked my ass the first two rounds,” Magnus said, scratching the back of his neck. “But I did end up winning more than she did, which was sweet because usually, she wins most of them, and I guess that was the high point of my day, so.”

“Can I just—can I just say that the fact that you volunteer to get the shit kicked out of you every morning is wild,” Taako said. “Like, can’t you just, uh, _run_? Lift weights? Do some normal, non-fighting exercise?”

“Go on, Taako, tell us about all the different types of exercises you know,” Lup said, and Taako flipped her off.

“I dunno,” Magnus said, ignoring their squabbling. “It’s just fun I guess.”

“Getting beat up every day is _fun_?”

“Hey, look, I don’t get beat up _every_ day—”

“Fucking—fucking _close enough_ , my good dude,” Taako argued.

“Look, T, we don’t give you shit for eating chocolate even though it fucks up your stomach, so you can’t give Mags shit because he likes to get his ass handed to him by a powerful lesbian,” Lup said. “Magnus, I respect your dedication to getting absolutely fucked up, now pass the grub before my brother literally kills you.”

Magnus grinned and passed the platter to his right.

To Kravitz.

Kravitz, who stared down at the piles of meat and vegetables and bread with wide eyes and didn’t say a word.

“Yo, uh, Kravitz? Dude? You in there, my fella?” Taako said, leaning over and snapping his fingers in front of Kravitz’s face.

“Oh, um. Yes! Yes, of course,” Kravitz said, shaking his head slightly as he came out of whatever weird trance he was in. “This, uh, this smells wonderful—”

“Yeah, bro, it sure fucking does. Sure would like to eat it someday.”

Kravitz blinked a few times and then said _oh_ again. “I—I wasn’t under the impression that I would be, ah, _participating_.”

“I mean, if you don’t want to—” Taako began, but Lup quickly and succinctly cut him off with a loud _Nah_.

“You’re here, you say it, bud. Them’s the rules,” she said. “It’s easy-peasy, I promise.”

Kravitz visibly gulped and Taako almost felt bad for the guy. “I, uh—I start with the low?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“And then—and then the high?”

“That is the name of the game, kemosabe.”

“I—alright, then,” Kravitz said, clearing his throat. “I, um. I suppose the low point of my day was the two seconds after Taako opened the door earlier when I was _quite_ sure he was going to beat me to death with a pair of tongs.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Lup snorted so hard Barry started thumping her on the back.

“That—fuck, dude, that was—” she started. “I mean, to be—to be fair, that—he defo might have, so your fear is, uh—valid. Valid fear, valid concern.”

Kravitz looked…

Honestly, the guy looked scared shitless.

“I—yes, well. I appreciate him, uh. Not. Not murdering me on his—on your doorstep. Thank you, Taako, for—for not—for not doing, uh. That,” he stammered. Taako raised his eyebrows.

“I mean, uh, no problem, my dude,” he said. “You’re welcome for, um. Not wasting you with kitchen utensils, I guess.”

“Can I just say, the atmosphere that’s been created at this dinner table tonight? Somehow both heartwarming and deeply disturbing,” Magnus said happily.

“That’s just how we do,” Taako replied with a shrug. “So, uh. You thought you were getting the great honour of having _this_ be the last thing you ever saw and somehow that was the _low point_ of your day, so what, uh, what was the high point, Grim?”

Kravitz looked over at Angus and a small smile tugged at his lips.

It was that same sincere smile that Taako had seen on his face in the kitchen, and Taako had the singular, horrifying sensation of his stomach flipping over and rising into his throat.

He chugged the rest of his fantasy Pepsi and prayed no one noticed the blush blooming around his ears.

“Actually, Taako, I think we have the same high point,” Kravitz said, still grinning at his nephew. “I—I honestly had a lovely time with you at the science fair, Angus, and I’m very, very proud of you.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “And I’m sure your mother would be very proud, too.”

Taako was almost positive he saw tears forming in the corner of Angus’ eyes, and he couldn’t help but look away. “I, uh, well,” he mumbled. “Obviously. You’d have to—you’d have to be, like, even dumber than we are to not be proud of Agnes, and that’s saying something because like, we’re _pretty_ fucking dumb.”

When he looked back up, he almost thought he saw Kravitz directing that smile at him


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus was still standing in the car pick-up line when Taako pulled up four minutes after class let out, bookbag slung over his shoulder and glasses only slightly crooked. He didn’t seem, like, visibly distressed or anything, thank the fucking gods. Taako didn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d gotten there and the kid had been, like. Crying.
> 
> That was the nightmare scenario. Literally. Taako had had nightmares.
> 
> Instead, Angus smiled as Taako rolled down the window of his shitty fantasy Honda Accord and yelled, “Get in, loser, we’re going home.”
> 
> “Thank you for picking me up, sir,” Angus said, still grinning as he climbed into the passenger seat. Technically it was illegal for him to be sitting the front, but the kid was, like, tall, and Taako always made sure he wore a seat belt, and also fuck cops, so it was fine.
> 
> Probably.
> 
> Anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is so short, it's because the next chapter absolutely ridiculous and is consuming my brain.

_From: Unknown Number (444-273-2737)_

_Hello, I’d hate to be a bother, but if you’re willing, I would very much appreciate your help. It’s about Angus._

Taako stared at his phone for another moment, eyes narrowed, before he began to type.

_From: America’s Favourite Wizard (444-867-5309)_

_hey yo who tf is this_

_From: Unknown Number (444-273-2737)_

_It’s Kravitz. My apologies for texting you out of the blue. Angus gave me your number in case of emergencies._

_From: America’s Favourite Wizard (444-867-5309)_

_oh shit is this an emergency???_

_what’s wrong???_

_is ango okay???_

_From: Grim (444-273-2737)_

_He’s fine._

_From: America’s Favourite Wizard (444-867-5309)_

_okay cool_

_noah fence but why are you texting me then_

_From: Grim (444-273-2737)_

_I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to pick him up after school or to send someone to pick him up._

Taako looked over at the clock above his oven and then back down at his phone.

_From: Grim (444-273-2737)_

_I’d planned on doing it myself, but there’s been a clerical error at work, and my boss has asked me to stay a bit late to help fix it. I dropped Angus off this morning so he doesn’t have his bike._

It was 2:45, which meant he had about ten minutes until classes let out at New Elfington Middle School. The drive took twelve minutes.

Taako swore under his breath.

_From: America’s Favourite Wizard (444-867-5309)_

_text the kid and tell him i’m on my way_

“Fuck,” he mumbled as he pushed the door to the dining room open. “Ren! Ren would you c’mere for a sec?”

“You alright there, broseph?” Lup asked as Taako tugged off his apron.

“Yeah, just, uh, gotta go pick up the kid since Krav had an issue at work and Ango didn’t ride his bike this morning,” he explained quickly.

“Oh, so it’s _Krav_ now, huh? It’s Krav and you’re _texting hi—”_

“Ren!” Taako interrupted, giving Lup a rushed but still incredibly elegant middle finger. “Hey, uh, I need you to hang back here and help out Lu while I take care of some stuff. There’s lemon-rosemary chicken in the oven and brown-sugar green beans and bacon on the stove. You good?”

Ren smiled at him from the doorway. “I’m good, Taako. Your kid doin’ okay?”

“He’s—yeah, he’s cool, I’m actually—actually gotta go pick him up—”

“Well then, what’re you standin’ ‘round here for, huh?” Ren asked, propping one hand on her hip and waving him off with the other. “Go on then, Super Dad. Shoo.”

Taako was in such a hurry to leave that he forgot to remind Ren that he wasn’t Angus’ dad.

Angus was still standing in the car pick-up line when Taako pulled up four minutes after class let out, bookbag slung over his shoulder and glasses only slightly crooked. He didn’t seem, like, visibly distressed or anything, thank the fucking gods. Taako didn’t know _what_ he would’ve done if he’d gotten there and the kid had been, like. Crying.

That was the nightmare scenario. Literally. Taako had had nightmares.

Instead, Angus smiled as Taako rolled down the window of his shitty fantasy Honda Accord and yelled, “Get in, loser, we’re going home.”

“Thank you for picking me up, sir,” Angus said, still grinning as he climbed into the passenger seat. _Technically_ it was illegal for him to be sitting the front, but the kid was, like, tall, and Taako always made sure he wore a seat belt, and also _fuck_ cops, so it was fine.

Probably.

 _Anyway_.

“It’s no problem, little dude,” Taako said, making sure Angus was settled before pulling out of the hellscape that was the middle school pick up line and back onto the street. “Your, uh, your uncle tell you what’s up or…?”

“Oh, yes, sir!” Angus said. “He said that someone _committed a major fucking boner_ on some paperwork and that he would be home late, and _then_ he told me to forget he said fuck _and_ boner and said that they had just _really goofed up_ , so.”

Taako laughed despite himself. “So, Mr. Prim-And-Proper actually knows how to talk like a human, huh?” he asked. “Colour me surprised.”

“Oh yes! When we’re at home, he actually sounds like a normal person,” Angus said. “Honestly, sir, I think he just gets nervous around you.”

Taako quickly glanced over at Angus before looking back at the road. “Huh? Around me?”

“Yeah! You’re always so confident and, uh, blunt—” Angus said _blunt_ in a way Taako could tell meant _you’re an asshole but I’m a respectful little boy so I’m not gonna call you on it_ “—and I think it makes him self-conscious.”

“Oh, well, obviously,” Taako said, rolling his eyes. “Taako’s great, natch, but usually it doesn’t—it doesn’t usually make people, like, _nervous_ or whatever.”

Angus gave him a side-eyed look. “If you say so, sir.”

“Hey, what does that mean?”

“It means—it means _if you say so_ , sir.”

“Do I—Ango, do you think I make people nervous?”

“Well—”

“Me? _Me_? Making people _nervous_?”

“If you want to hear my honest opinion, sir—”

“Me, making people ner— _wait_. Ango. Agnes. D’Jangus Unchained. Do you make _you_ nervous?”

Taako saw Angus swallow out of the corner of his eye.

“I—Not anymore, sir, but—when we very first met, I—sir, you—I mean, to be fair, sir, you _did_ ask me if I was time traveller from the fantasy Victorian times and then immediately tell your sister I was _the biggest dweeb you’d ever fucking seen_ , so,” Angus said, wringing his hands for a moment before sitting up. “But I got over it, sir! Now I know that _you’re_ a giant dingus, too, and that your life is, and I quote, _a massive, ridiculously hot mess_ , and that you goof on me because you care!”

Taako laughed and reached over to tug on the brim of Angus’ cap. “I mean, I _guess_ so,” he said and then rolled his eyes. “Nah, I get it. I’ve—I’ve got a _big personality_ , y’know? At least that’s what all the teachers said, back when I was just as runty and snot-nosed as you are. Apparently it throws people off guard.”

Angus smiled. “I like your big personality, Taako,” he said. “It—It makes you interesting and—and unique!”

“Fucking _exactly,_ kid,” Taako agreed. “Hey, d’you have any idea what time your uncle’ll be home? Did he say?”

“Um, I can check,” Angus said. “Why do you ask?”

Taako stared straight ahead at the road in front of him. “I, uh. Was just thinking. If he’s gonna be late, you don’t have any food at the house for dinner, and I—I can’t have my protégé starving to death, y’know? That’s—that’s a bad look. Lotta bad PR in, uh, in dead kids.”

“That’s a good point, sir,” Angus said. “Plus I’ve really missed your cooking!”

“So you’ve said.”

“It’s true! Uncle Kravitz can’t cook for shit! I honestly don’t know how it made it this far without poisoning himself!”

Taako laughed aloud. “Alright, okay, here’s—how about this, then, huh? How about we swing by the café, we whip up something easy-breezy-beautiful, and then this evening you blow your uncle away with your culinary prowess? Sound good to you?”

“Oh yes, sir! That sounds wonderful!”

“Hell yeah it does, bubbeleh!” Taako said, quickly turning down a street that would put them on their way back home.

**

Ren was by far the quietest person on _Tostaada’s_ payroll. Maybe it was because she was the only one of the bunch who hadn’t grown up together, maybe it was because she was just a quieter person by nature, _maybe_ it was because she was the only person at the restaurant who took their job absolutely seriously. Whatever the reason, whenever Lup took one of her rare days off and it was just Taako and Ren working in the kitchen, there was always a lot more silence.

Most of the time, Taako didn’t mind. Contrary to popular belief, he _could_ shut up when he wanted to, and there was something therapeutic about cooking in silence. He could let his mind wander, could get lost in the rhythmic thunk of his knife against the cutting board, in the soft sizzle of oil in a hot pan, in the cracking of eggs and the rush of water from the sink.

Somedays, however, his thoughts got too loud to simply stay in his head.

“You ever think that there’s something bigger than this?” Taako asked as he mixed butter and sour cream into the mashed potatoes he was making.

Ren didn’t look up. “I mean—are you talkin’ ‘bout the stars ‘n stuff, Taako?” she asked. “Cos I think ‘bout them from time to time.”

“Nah,” Taako said, moving to chop up a few green onions. “Well, maybe, but—like, there’s a _world_ out there, Ren. It’s big and bright and there’s so much of it and we—we’re just _here_.”

“D’you—D’you not like it here?”

Taako huffed. “I mean—listen, Ren, this place is—it’s fine, y’know? It’s good, it’s whatever, but it’s—I’m a creative type, y’know? A visionary. A _revolutionary_. This place, it just—sometimes it just doesn’t feel _big enough_ for all of me. I’m _Taako_. I need—I want more than this.”

Ren looked over at him from the corner of her eye. “You told Lup about all this?”

“Stupid question.”

Ren laughed. “Yeah, yeah I guess it is.”

Taako sighed. “This whole thing—this whole thing is stupid,” he said. “I’m here and I’m killing it, obviously, so it’s like whatever, but…”

“Y’know, you always did strike me as the big city type,” Ren said after a moment. “I always wondered what all had you stayin’ here—I sorta thought you’d be some sorta traveller, wanderin’ ‘round, maybe, uh, maybe teachin’ folks how to cook all over.”

Taako smiled down at his potatoes. “That, uh, not gonna lie to you, Ren, that sounds pretty fucking sweet but, um,” he cleared his throat, “My family’s here, y’know? And I can’t—I can’t just leave them. They were—for so long, they were all I had, me and Lup, and then the others, and now—well. I can’t just say _fuck it_ and bail, no matter how bad I want to, sometimes.”

“’S pretty noble, comin’ from the self-appointed _biggest asshole in New Elfington_ ,” Ren said, and Taako simply scoffed in reply before turning back to his mashed potatoes and once again letting the silence overcome the kitchen.

**

“D’you think a red veil is too goth for the wedding?”

“Lulu, your wedding cake design has skulls on it.”

“I know! I know, but—”

“ _Lup your dress has bones—_ ”

“I _know_ _that_ , Taako,” Lup insisted. “But what if—”

“What if _what,_ Lu?” Taako asked, putting down the nail polish he was holding. “What if a red veil is the final straw that condemns your immortal soul to hell for all eternity? Is that—what the fuck are you worried about?”

Lup sighed and flopped backwards onto her bed, careful to keep her still-wet nails from smudging. “I don’t know,” she groaned. “I just—what if I do something and it’s too weird and it _ruins it_?”

“You’re worried about being too weird?” Taako asked sceptically. “Too weird for who, my dude? For your fiancé who collects roadkill?”

“I mean _maybe_ —”

“Bull-fucking-shit,” Taako snapped. “Lup, I say this with all the love in my heart: you’re being an idiot.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Fucking— _exactly_!” Taako said. “If _I_ can tell you’re being stupid as all fuck, then you must really be doing something, huh?”

Lup huffed and sat up. “’S just—it’s just—I’m getting _married_ , T.”

“Oh, is that what’s happening? Gotta admit, I was _so confused_ when Barry knelt onto one knee while I just-so-happened to be filming the two of you on a romantic nighttime stroll through the park—”

“Taako,” Lup interrupted, “Taako, I’m getting _married_.”

Taako stared at her for a moment and saw the look of low-grade panic in her eyes before pulling her up and into his chest for a tight hug. “Yeah you are,” he said. “And you know what? I think—I think it’s gonna be pretty cool.”

“Really?” she asked, the words muffled against his shoulder.

“Yeah, Lup,” he said. “Really.”

“’S a lot of commitment.”

“Yup.”

“Does that not scare you?”

“I mean, it’s your life,” Taako replied. “Does it—like, vicariously, yeah, I guess, but—look, Lu, we—we own a business. And a house, kind of, pretty much. And Barry fucking _lives with us._ So, like—for better or worse, we’re already pretty fucking committed, y’know? Barold is fucking ass over ankles for you, and he makes you, like, happy and shit, so why not?”

Lup laughed and leaned back, still careful not to mess up her nails. “Plus you adopted a child.”

“Plus I—wait! No! No I didn’t!”

“Taako, you’ve literally called him _your boy_ multiple times.”

“That doesn’t mean I—that doesn’t mean anything.”

“You were practically in a custody battle for him!”

“I was just making sure Kravitz wasn’t, like, a serial child murderer!”

“You’re so full of shit.”

Taako scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Listen, the kid—he’s—at _best_ he’s like my apprentice, at worst we’ve gotten ourselves into some sorta reverse hostage situation,” he explained. “I keep him alive because I’m not, like, _the worst person alive_ and I give him cooking lessons because I get bored and that’s _it_.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will!”

Lup gave him one of her patented _I’m waiting for you to stop wearing your ass like a hat_ looks and Taako huffed dramatically.

“So _maybe_ I’ve got, like, partial custody of the boy,” he grumbled. “I—look, Lu, what do you want me to say, huh? That I saw a kid who was scared and hungry and alone and too smart for his own good and that I—fuck, that he reminded me of us? That he reminded me of you? That I didn’t want him to have to go through the same bullshit we did? That I _care about him_? Huh? Is that what you want me to say?”

“Yes.”

“Well there ya fucking go, I guess. Congrats, asshole.”

Lup fell back onto the bed and nudged Taako with her elbow until he joined her. “We’re all sorts of fucked up, aren’t we?”

“I mean… yeah.”

“Who let us do these things?”

“I dunno,” Taako said, “The universe is an anxious, emotionally repressed teenager and we are but the characters they are projecting upon in order to cope.”

“Amen.”

They were both quiet for a moment, and then Lup said, “You wanna go get fantasy nugs?”

Taako sat up so quickly he felt his head spin and immediately started searching for a pair of shoes to pull on. “Oh _hell_ yes,” he said, and Lup smiled at him as she grabbed the fantasy car keys.

**

“So… how’ve you been?” Taako asked as he leaned back against the park bench. “How’s, uh, work? Dead guys still dead and, uh, stuff?”

“Y-yes. Yup. Still… still dead.”

“Cool, cool. Although you gotta admit—it’d be pretty fucking cool if suddenly some of those fools were, like, _less_ dead.”

“If—it’d be cool if someone somehow _destroyed the balance between life and death_ and became some sort of _disgusting undead abomination_?”

“Uh, yeah, duh. What part of what you just said _didn’t_ sound choice as hell to you?”

Kravitz stared at him with a look of utter befuddlement on his face. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“Hell yeah, my man! That’s what keeps it interesting, keeps it _spicy_.”

Kravitz laughed and turned back to where Angus was running around the playground with his friend June, looking positively delighted. Apparently, they were playing _Caleb Cleveland, Kid Cop and Wizard Detective_ , which was a variation on Angus’ favourite book series.

Taako was pretty sure the game could be summed up in two words: _nerd shit_.

“Thank you for dropping him off,” Kravitz said. “This is—we’ve almost got everything sorted back at the office, so hopefully this is the last of these late nights for a while.”

“’S not a problem, kemosabe. No, uh, no sweat off ol’ Taako’s brow.”

“What about you?” Kravitz asked. “Have you been well? Things at the café running smoothly?”

“Smoothly as they ever do,” Taako replied with a shrug. “I mean, like, it’s ridiculous and always a moment away from unending disaster, but that’s just sorta par for the course with my gaggle of goofuses, so.”

“And you’re _sure_ you’re alright with coming by next week? I know you only get so many days off and I hate to force you to spend them, uh, back in the kitchen, as it were,” Kravitz said.

“It’s fine, dude. Seriously. Don’t worry about it,” Taako promised. “If what Ango’s been telling me is true, this is something of a critical mission, so…”

Kravitz rubbed the back of his neck. “Things have been a bit, uh, _dire_ , I’ll admit.”

“Well lucky for you, you’ve got the best chef in New Elfington on tap, so, um. The dog days are almost over and all that.”

“Thank you again—”

“Krav, my man, you _gotta_ cut that shit out, m’kay?” Taako interrupted. “Like, for real. I get it, you’re, like, chivalrous and polite and gentlemanly and all, but this ain’t—I’m not undergoing some great hardship, here. I’m teaching you how to make veggie lasagna so that you and the kid don’t fucking beef it.”

Kravitz looked over at him again, a different sort of expression on his face.

“What? Do I—is there broccoli stuck in my teeth?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, I just—” he cut himself off and turned away again.

“It’s just _what_ , bubbeleh?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh, that ain’t nothing. My man, I’ve _seen_ nothing, and that? That ain’t it.”

“Really, Taako, it’s not—just forget it.”

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“All part of the signature Taako Charm, my fella.”

Kravitz rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s just… I’ve never seen someone be so full of themselves and yet so utterly incapable of admitting they’re doing something good,” he finally admitted, sounding equal parts anxious and exasperated.

Taako blinked twice.

“I honestly don’t know whether to be flattered or offended,” he said bluntly, and Kravitz threw his head back and laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m already losing my touch! Being defeated by the next generation!” Taako said, dramatically falling to his knees as he reached out towards Angus. “So close to obsolescence, so close to death!”
> 
> Angus giggled. “Don’t worry, Taako. I won’t use my immense power to defeat you just yet.”
> 
> “Gotta wait until I’m old and frail so that you can strike me when I’m at my weakest, I feel you,” Taako said, pushing himself back up to his feet. “You ready to teach your uncle here how we do in the Taaco household?”
> 
> “Yes, sir! I even set up the kitchen for us!”
> 
> “Hell yeah little man, way to be prepared,” Taako said, reaching down to mess up Angus’ cap. “I dunno about you fools, but I’m starving. Let’s get this thing started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys. guys, this chapter... it's a lot. I'm warning you now, it's a lot, and sorta tonally all over the place, and some of it was written literally ten minutes before I'm posting this, but hopefully y'all like it because it's got some of my favourite scenes in it, so.
> 
> enjoy.

The first thing Taako noticed when he arrived at the McDonald household was the music.

The front door was open, leaving only the screen standing between Taako and the rest of the house, and Taako could already hear the music drifting from the living room.

It was a waltz, if Taako correctly remembered what exactly made a waltz a waltz from one of Lup’s many rants about musical composition, being played somewhat-clumsily on a piano. Every so often the lower notes would fumble, just for a second, before rejoining the melody.

For a moment, Taako hesitated in front of the doorway.

And then he asked himself what the _fuck_ he was doing because he was _Taako_ , and Taako didn’t _anxiously wait outside of screen doors_.

The music didn’t stop when he stepped inside. The music didn’t stop as he made his way to the kitchen and sat down the grocery bags full of ingredients he’d brought from _Tostaada’s_. In fact, the music didn’t stop until he’d nearly made his way into the living room, and even then, Taako didn’t think it was because of him.

Kravitz and Angus were seated next to each other in front of the piano, Angus nearly on Kravitz’s lap as they were squished side-by-side on the bench. There was a piece of sheet music propped up in the stand, and Angus appeared to be leaning forward to get a closer look at it while Kravitz explained something to him in a voice too quiet for Taako to properly hear.

He took another step forward as Kravitz and Angus sat back upright.

“See, if you—your hands should hover over the keys like— one time I heard someone describe it as if you’ve got an egg under your hand that you’re trying to hold onto while you play—yes, like that, just like that,” Kravitz said, just loud enough for Taako to hear. “Now, if you just—there we go. You wanna start from the top?”

“Yes, sir,” Angus replied just as softly. “Do you—do you think he’ll like it, sir? I know I’m not very good just yet, but I hope—”

“Angus,” Kravitz said, running a hand through the boy’s hair, “he’s gonna love it, I promise. Now, from the beginning?”

Taako watched Angus nod, and then they both began to play.

As Taako had suspected, Angus was playing the lower part, carrying the steady _one-two-three_ rhythm of the song as Kravitz deftly plucked out the melody. It wasn’t perfect—there were still fumbles here and there, a moment or two where Angus stopped playing, just for a second, before jumping right back in—but as he played the final chord, Taako couldn’t help but break into applause.

And then Angus fell off his bench.

“Oh my—oh my goodness, sir!” he shouted as he landed on his ass on the floor, his detective cap falling forward into his face. “I—I didn’t—oh man—I— _shit_ —”

Taako covered his mouth to hide his laughter as he went to help the boy back to his feet.

“Is that, uh. Is that the way they’re ending their performances in Neverwinter, now?” he asked as Angus straightened his collar and vest and hat. “I mean, gotta say I appreciate the dramatics, but—”

“We, uh, we didn’t hear you come in,” Kravitz interrupted, placing a hand on Angus’ back. “Are you okay, Angus? Didn’t get to banged up on the way down?”

“No, uh, no sir, I’m fine,” Angus said, and Taako could see his face slowly growing redder and redder.

“It sounded great, bee-tee-dubs,” Taako said. “Like, I know jack _shit_ about music, but, uh, it sounded… pretty.”

Angus smiled. “I’m glad you liked it, sir!” he said. “I learned it for you!”

“Oh?” Taako asked. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir! Uncle Kravitz has been teaching me how to play! He says that if I keep practising like I have been, I could be even better than him, someday!”

“Oh, for real?” Taako asked. “So you’re going to be the world’s greatest musician _and_ the world’s greatest soccer player _and_ the world’s greatest detective _and_ the world’s second greatest chef?”

Kravitz ducked to cover his laugh as Angus blushed even more. “I don’t know about all that, sir, but it never hurts to learn a new skill! You never know when it could come in handy!”

“That’s—damn, kid, you got me there. I’m already losing my touch! Being defeated by the next generation!” Taako said, dramatically falling to his knees as he reached out towards Angus. “So close to obsolescence, so close to death!”

Angus giggled. “Don’t worry, Taako. I won’t use my immense power to defeat you just yet.”

“Gotta wait until I’m old and frail so that you can strike me when I’m at my weakest, I feel you,” Taako said, pushing himself back up to his feet. “You ready to teach your uncle here how we do in the Taaco household?”

“Yes, sir! I even set up the kitchen for us!”

“Hell yeah little man, way to be prepared,” Taako said, reaching down to mess rustle Angus’ cap. “I dunno about you fools, but I’m _starving_. Let’s get this thing started.”

Angus grinned up at him and grabbed his hand, all but dragging him back into the kitchen. “I—We even got things for dessert, right Uncle Kravitz?” he said, and Taako heard Kravitz chuckle from behind them.

“We bought ice cream sandwiches,” Kravitz explained.

“That counts, though,” Angus interjected. “Ice cream sandwiches are my favourites!”

“Hell yeah, bubbeleh, those things _smack_ ,” Taako agreed. “Now c’mon, I’ve got your apron in my bag, let’s—act like you’ve been in the kitchen before, kid, you know how this goes. What’s step one?”

Angus raced over and tugged his apron from the canvas tote Taako had placed on the kitchen counter. It had a blue gingham print and a crudely sewn magnifying glass on the front. “No fucking around with germs,” Angus replied dutifully.

“Absolutely,” Taako confirmed. “Go wash your hands while I get your uncle set up, m’kay pumpkin?”

“Okay, Taako!” Angus said, climbing up onto a little step stool in front of the kitchen sink and turning on the tap as Taako turned back to Kravitz.

“You’ve, uh. I brought you an apron from the shop. It’s not, like, fancy or anything—I actually think it’s Ren’s spare, but it’ll work, y’know? Wouldn’t want to get your fancy clothes all messed up,” he said, tying his own apron on. His was bubblegum pink and had the words _Sizzle It Up! With Taako_ embroidered on the front. “You’ll wanna tie your hair up, too.”

“I—okay,” Kravitz said, taking the last apron from the bag. It was plain black, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Fucking goths.

“Alright, so,” Taako said, clapping his hands in front of him. “The hierarchy is as such: I’m the head chef, obviously. Angus, you’re my sous chef. Kravitz, you’re… you’re just gonna watch and chop stuff, honestly. Angus told me you burnt noodles the other night and I didn’t even know you could _do_ that, so…”

Taako wasn’t _completely_ sure, but he was pretty sure he saw Kravitz blush.

“So, next step: sautéing the vegetables. Angus, you’re on bell pepper duty. Dice ‘em up small, okay? I’ll mince the garlic and slice up the onions. Kravitz?”

“Yes?”

“Think you can handle a zucchini?”

Now Taako was _positive_ Kravitz was blushing. “I, uh—I mean—”

“’S easy, my dude,” Taako promised, moving over to Kravitz’s side and laying out the vegetable on the cutting board. “Look, I’ll—here.”

He quickly sliced off a piece of zucchini and diced it into small chunks and handed the knife to Kravitz. “You try.”

“I—alright,” Kravitz muttered, cautiously taking the knife from Taako’s hand.

“It’s not scary, Uncle Kravitz!” Angus piped up from where he was cutting into his bell peppers with single-minded focus. “You just gotta remember to tuck your fingers in and take it slow and steady!”

“Thank you, Angus,” Kravitz said, holding the knife awkwardly.

“Fantasy Jesus Christ, this is worse than I ever could’ve imagined,” Taako whispered before gently taking the knife back from Kravitz’s hand. “Did you—how do you cut up, like, a steak, my dude? Do you just whack at it until you’ve turned it into an easily-digestible pulp?”

Kravitz glared at him from the corner of his eye. “ _No_ ,” he huffed. “I just—this is _different_.”

“Yeah, but not _that—_ alright, okay, here, just—” Taako sighed, repositioning the knife in Kravitz’s hand and placing his own hand on top of it. “You just sorta— _slice it_. Yeah, like—no, no, you gotta keep your fingers tucked in, like the kid said, or you’re gonna get person bits all in the lasagna and I’m _pretty sure_ that ain’t Kosher.”

“It’s not.”

“See? Thank you, Angus,” Taako said as he continued to lead Kravitz through the motions of dicing a few pieces of zucchini. It was weird being this close to someone who wasn’t Lup or Barry or Angus, and Taako felt his stomach flip as his hand pressed against Kravitz’s. Eventually, he lifted his hands away and turned back to his garlic and onions, hoping the tips of his ears weren’t too red. “Lucky for you, you’ve already got an experienced chef in the house.”

“Yeah, I’m—I’m pretty lucky,” Kravitz agreed, looking at his nephew with an incredibly sappy expression on his face, and Taako felt something bubble up in his throat.

He quickly went back to cutting up his own vegetables and tried not to think about it.

They somehow managed to get everything in the pan, sizzling away with a dash of olive oil, without anyone dying. Taako led them through the motions of adding the spinach to the pan while he prepared the tomato sauce. “I’m not expecting you dingbats to make your own marinara every time,” he said as he dumped the tomato, basil, olive oil, salt, garlic, and red pepper flakes into the food processor he’d brought with him. “But this recipe is, like, _way_ fucking better than any of that store-bought junk, so that’s how we’re rolling tonight.”

“Miss Lup always says Taako’s a food snob,” Angus whispered, leaning closer to his uncle.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Taako insisted. “You think I’m gonna put anything but the best into this beautiful, beautiful vessel?”

“I guess that does make sense, sir,” Angus said. “It’s very important to keep your body healthy and in—in tip-top shape!”

Taako smiled down at the boy as he moved his tomato sauce into a bowl. “You wanna blend the cheese, boychik?”

“Are you—are you sure that’s safe, Taako?” Kravitz interrupted, eyeing the food processor warily. “That thing—well, those blades are very sharp and they’re rotating very quickly—”

“He knows how to use it safely, don’t you, Agnes?” Taako interrupted.

Angus nodded. “I use it all the time to make salsa!”

“See? He uses it all the time to make salsa, and he’s still got—hold ‘em up for us, pumpkin—yup, still got all ten fingers.”

Kravitz looked between the two of them for a moment before sighing. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Just—please be careful. Please.”

“Sure thing, Grim,” Taako replied with a wink, dumping a container of cottage cheese into the food processor. “Ango, blend that for a couple of minutes while I make sure Ghost Rider here knows how to shred cheese.”

“I know how to—”

“Ah ah ah, _I’ll_ be the judge of that,” Taako said, winking at Angus as he set Kravitz up with a bowl, a cheese grater, and some parmesan.

Turns out Kravitz _could_ shred cheese, but only after scraping his knuckles against the grater at least six times.

By the grace of whatever deity was watching over them, thirty minutes later they were sitting at the McDonald’s dining room table, each with a plate full of vegetable lasagna in front of them.

“This—holy shit, Taako, this smells _amazing_ ,” Kravitz said as he stared down at his pasta.

“Hell yeah it does,” Taako said. “You got the best chef in New Elfington _and_ his apprentice _and_ someone who can sort of chop veggies in the house. This lasagna didn’t even have a chance.”

“Can we eat now, sirs?” Angus asked. “It—I’m very hungry and it looks really good!”

“’S your house, kid,” Taako answered with a shrug. “You make the call.”

Angus smiled. “Let’s eat!”

The meal itself was quieter than Taako was used to, but he supposed that made sense. He and his sister could both talk the ear off a corpse, and Barry wasn’t bad for conversation either. Not to say that Angus and Kravitz _were_ , but…

“You guys are acting like you haven’t eaten in days,” Taako said as he watched Angus go back for his second helping. Kravitz was more than two-thirds done with his and showed no sign of slowing.

Both of them blushed.

“I’m sorry, sir, just, uh—” Angus started, staring down at his plate, but Taako quickly interrupted him.

“No, it’s not—I’m not—I’m not _shaming you_ , kid. Eat as much as you want. I’m just saying that you usually don’t go this absolutely wild unless you haven’t, y’know. Eaten well recently.”

Taako was doing his best not to give Kravitz the side-eye, he really was.

“It’s not that, sir,” Angus said. “I—I’ve been eating, it just hasn’t, um. It hasn’t been—well, it’s—uh—”

“It’s been fucking terrible,” Kravitz stated bluntly, putting Angus out of his sputtering, stammering misery. “This is the first _better-than-edible_ thing we’ve had since… well, since the science fair, really.”

Taako blinked at them both, mouth opening and closing a few times in rapid succession.

“That’s just—my dude, that’s just _sad_ ,” he finally said. “I—listen. Listen. I can’t—out of the _overwhelming goodness of my own caring, giving heart_ , I’ve decided I can’t let you go on like this. This is unacceptable. You guys are officially back on the official Taako tee-em meal plan, no ands, ifs, or buts about it.”

Suddenly the dinner table wasn’t so quiet.

“Taako you don’t—”

“Really sir, that’s not—”

“Ah! Ah ah ah!” Taako cut in, holding a finger to each of their lips. “I said no ands, ifs, or buts. You’re both going to pipe down, you’re going to finish your lasagna, and then we’re all going to have ice cream sandwiches and watch a movie, and I won’t hear a single fucking word about it. Capiche?”

“Taako—”

“Do. You. Capiche?” Taako repeated, glaring at the both of them.

Both Kravitz and Angus nodded, and Taako slowly withdrew his fingers. “Good,” he said. “Now eat your food.”

Angus stabbed his fork into his pasta and grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Fine, Dad.”

Taako rolled his eyes and looked back to Kravitz. “Kids these days, am I right?”

Kravitz just stared at him for a moment before subtly shaking his head and returning to his food.

**

Taako wasn’t sure how Angus McDonald ended up in his lap, only that when they’d started watching fantasy _National Treasure_ Angus had been seated at one end of the sofa and that now, as fantasy Nicolas Cage jumped into the fantasy Hudson River with the fantasy Declaration of Independence, Angus was snuggled firmly in his lap, eyes locked on the fantasy television.

Which was fine.

No, really. It was fine. Cool. Whatever.

Taako definitely wasn’t freaking out, like, at all.

Because it was _fine_.

And maybe— _maybe—_ he’d been running some weird internal monologue about Angus being, like, partially his kid since Lup had brought it up the week before, and _maybe_ the little _dad_ comment at dinner had made his heart do a couple of somersaults that had almost convinced Taako he was _actually dying_ , but that was—

That was _also_ fine, and definitely not something to be examined too critically.

Shut up.

“So are we just gonna ignore the fact that this dude _defo_ just ruined the fantasy Declaration of Independence?” Taako asked. “Like, that—there’s no way that tube thing is airtight, right? And he just—like, paper’s old as hell, and that ink is—they don’t even let that shit out into the _sun_ , and he just jumped into the fucking—like, that’s a fantasy historical document with a lot of fantasy historical significance, and now it’s covered in river water, which, uh— there’s at least _some_ shit in that river, absolutely—fantasy Nicolas Cage is doing serious prison time after this, right? Right?”

“Oh definitely, sir,” Angus replied, not looking away from the screen. “Not to mention all the property damage—”

“ _Right?_ ”

“You—you can’t just _take a brick out of a wall_! Someone owns that wall! That’s someone’s wall, and you’re just taking bricks out of it!”

“ _Exactly_!”

“And _also_ , he _did_ steal the fantasy Declaration of Independence, so even if he _didn’t_ ruin it with—with shit water, then he’s _still_ a—”

“Would you two _please_ be quiet!” Kravitz insisted. “I’m trying to watch the movie!”

“Oh,” Angus said, shifting even further into Taako’s lap. “Sorry, sir. We’ll try and be quiet.”

“ _You’ll_ try and be quiet,” Taako mumbled.

“What was that, sir?”

“Nothing, just—”

“The movie! Please!” Kravitz insisted, and so Taako bit his lip and turned back to the screen.

They were shooting guns in a graveyard, which, like—

Out of the people in the room, _Taako_ wasn’t the expert on dead people, but even he was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to, like. Shoot guns at them.

Taako sighed and tried to push thoughts of desecrated tombs and shit-water covered historical documents and pseudo-adopted boy detectives from his mind. He was immersing himself in the movie, damn it, even if the movie did star _fantasy Nicolas Cage_ , and he was doing a pretty okay job at it, too, until he noticed Angus curling closer to his chest.

The boy hadn’t _quite_ hidden his face behind Taako’s arm, but he was getting pretty damn close.

“You alright there, pumpkin?” he whispered, one of his hands moving absent-mindedly to run through Angus’ curls.

“Yes, uh, yes, sir,” Angus muttered, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m fine, I just—it’s a little spooky.”

Taako wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist and very quickly placed the lightest of kisses to his head. “Wanna see how many couch fuzzies we can throw at your uncle before he notices?” he murmured into Angus’ ear.

Immediately the boy sat up a little straighter, a mischievous grin on his face.

Taako carefully plucked a piece of fluff from the sofa and eyed where Kravitz was sitting at the other end of the couch. “You’ve got a better angle,” he whispered, handing the fuzz to Angus. “Ten points if you get it stuck in his hair.”

Angus giggled and carefully launched the fuzz across the sofa, grinning wildly as it clung to the shoulder of Kravitz’s sweater.

They managed to almost completely finish the movie before Kravitz noticed, and even then it was because Taako had overshot the angle necessary to hit Kravitz in the cheek and instead launched a piece of lint directly into the other man’s nose.

“What on—what is—is that—”

Angus threw another piece of fluff and hit Kravitz dead between the eyes.

“Have you two been doing this the _whole time_?” Kravitz said, wiping at his face.

“Nah, only for the past twenty minutes or so.”

Kravitz huffed and slumped back against the couch with his arms crossed over his chest.

Another piece of fuzz fell out of his hair and into his eyebrow, and neither Angus nor Taako could contain their giggles.

“You—menaces, the both of you,” Kravitz grumbled, running his hands over his hair and dislodging a few more fuzzies. For a moment, Taako thought Kravitz was just going to sit there and pout, but then a smirk crossed the other man’s face that filled Taako with actual, genuine fear.

“Krav, what are you—”

Taako’s question was interrupted by Angus shrieking with laughter as Kravitz hoisted him off of Taako’s lap and into his own, fingers poking into the little boy’s sides.

“It’s called vengeance!” Kravitz shouted as he continued to tickle up the boy’s sides and under his arms. “You thought you could escape my justice? My _wrath_?”

“Mer-mercy! Mercy, Uncle Kravitz, _please_ —”

“The time for mercy has long since passed, Angus,” Kravitz interrupted, but even he could hardly get the words out without laughing. “There are—fuck—there are none who can save you now!”

Taako raised an eyebrow. “’S that so?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kravitz smiled back at him, unrelenting in his assault. “I don’t see you trying to help.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to embarrass you in front of your nephew.”

“Maybe _you_ just don’t want to be embarrassed in front of your—Angus.”

“Me? _Me_ embarrassed by _you_? _You_ embarrassing _me_? Taako? From TV? Au contraire, mon frère,” Taako said. “I could take you easy-peasy-lemon-fucking-squeezy.”

“Please Taako! Please! I’m _dying_!” Angus shouted, desperately trying to wiggle away but Kravitz had his arms pinned.

“Okay, alright,” Taako said, standing up and wiping invisible dust from his pants. “But if you wanna call down the thunder, you’d better be prepared to dance in the rain.”

And Taako entered the fray.

None can say who _truly_ won the Great Tickle War that night. Taako always claimed total victory, saying that he _heroically rescued_ Angus from his evil captors. Kravitz argued that _he_ was the real winner, seeing as he was the only one who didn’t wake up with bruises the next day. Angus insisted that he didn’t _care_ who won, only that no future rescue attempts end with him being thrown off the couch and buried under twenty-six different cushions and pillows.

“Okay, okay, I—I think—and with that, I think it’s time for little detectives to head to bed,” Kravitz said, pushing himself to his feet and wiping what seemed to be a tear from under his eyes.

“But Uncle _Kravitz—_ ”

“Nope, sorry,” Kravitz interrupted. “You’ve got school tomorrow, Angus. You need your rest.”

Angus huffed and rolled his eyes. “But I’m not even—”

He interrupted himself with a long, loud yawn, his face turning an impressive shade of red.

Kravitz raised his eyebrows at him.

“ _Fine_ ,” Angus grumbled, but the pouting didn’t last for very long, and a moment later he was crashing into Taako’s stomach, his arms wrapping around the man’s waist. “Goodnight, Taako,” he said, looking up at Taako with wide eyes. “Thank you for dinner and, uh. Everything.”

Taako smiled at the kid and ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry about it, Angles. It wasn’t even a thing.”

“I, uh. I love you,” Angus whispered, squeezing Taako tight, and Taako bent over so that he could kiss the boy on the forehead.

“Love you too, pumpkin,” he said, rubbing the boy’s back. “Now you—your uncle’s right. You gotta get some sleep so you can go, uh. Do good at… math? Tomorrow? That’s—that’s your sorta nerd shit, right? Math?”

Angus laughed and pulled away from Taako, telling Kravitz goodnight and giving him another hug before heading towards the stairs.

“He’s good?” Taako asked quietly as he watched Angus disappear up to the second floor. “No, uh, no need for bedtime stories or tucking in or anything?”

“He’s good, Taako,” Kravitz assured him. “He’ll shower and say his prayers and then pretend to be asleep for a while so that I won’t know he stays up late reading his _Cable Cleveland_ novels every night.”

“Dork,” Taako scoffed before clapping his hands in front of him. “So I, uh, I guess this means it’s time for me to skedaddle, huh?”

Kravitz rubbed the back of his neck. “Not, uh. Not if you don’t want to,” he said. “I’ve—I mean, if you have to go of course I understand but I—I do have a bottle of wine in the kitchen, and I—well, it’d be nice to talk to an adult outside of work, you know? Just for a bit, if you—if that’s okay with you.”

“Kravitz my man, you had me at wine,” Taako said, clapping Kravitz on the shoulder and moving past him back into the kitchen.

He heard Kravitz laughing from behind him.

He tried to ignore just how much the sound of Kravitz’s laughter was growing on him.

“So,” he said once they were back in the living room, each with a glass in hand and the bottle sat in the middle of the coffee table, soft instrumental music playing from a radio on one of the bookshelves that Kravitz had turned on.

Kravitz blinked at him. “So?”

“I dunno, man,” Taako said. “I’m sorta grasping for conversational straws, here.”

Kravitz chuckled. “You? Not knowing what to say? I can hardly believe it.”

“Yeah, well, contrary to popular belief, ch’boy _is_ only mortal,” Taako replied with a shrug.

“I’ll alert the presses.”

Taako laughed, leaning back against the sofa. “Listen, homie, any publicity is good publicity. You can tell ‘em whatever you want, so long as you make sure to mention that they should be eating at _Tostaada’s_ at least twice a week.”

“I’ll be sure to, uh, let them know.”

“What about you, my guy?” Taako asked. “Like, you know—you’ve got the Taako story—incredibly talented, devilishly handsome, amazing chef, natch—but, uh, what’s up with Kravitz? What’s your—your deal?”

“My deal?” Kravitz asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“Yeah! You—like, you were some hot-shot musician, right? Playing with the big boys and all that? Why’re you—why’re you _here_? Why’re you here and—and working with dead dudes all day?”

“I just… I needed a change, I suppose,” Kravitz replied with a shrug. “I—Music is my passion, and it always will be, but it’s… it’s hard to make a life that way. Travelling, moving around all the time, never able to settle down or—or have anything like a family. I guess I just got tired of it.”

Taako stared up at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t,” he said.

“You wouldn’t what?”

“Get tired of it,” Taako explained. “The—the travel stuff. The movement. The action.”

Kravitz smiled. “The pay here is significantly better, too.”

“Oh ho ho!” Taako said, smiling. “And the truth rings out!”

They were quiet, for a moment, and then Taako asked, “D’you ever miss it?”

“Oh, of course,” Kravitz answered easily. “I—I miss it every day. Every time I hear a song I used to play, every time I see photos of a place I used to visit, every… every day. But I don’t—I don’t want to _go back_ , if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why not?”

“I—I guess I just like being _here_ more than I miss being _there_ ,” Kravitz said. “Here, with—with Angus and—taking care of him, seeing him laugh and smile and be _happy_? I love it, Taako, and I—I couldn’t just leave it behind.”

Taako huffed and took another drink. “Makes sense, I guess,” he said. “I mean—same hat, kinda. A little.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I, uh. I got accepted into a culinary arts school in Neverwinter,” he continued quietly. “Lup—Lup got accepted into some fancy forensics program. Barry too, actually. We—we were going to go, all three of us. Make it big. But—”

He paused for a moment, blinking rapidly.

“ _Tostaada’s_ —that place was— _is_ —ours, and they were going to demolish it or turn it into some fucking— _bespoke earwax candle store_ or something, and Lup— _we_ couldn’t let that happen. So we’re—here. Still.”

For a moment the room was quiet, save for the soft piano music coming from the radio on the bookshelf.

“Are you happy here, Taako?” Kravitz asked softly.

“I mean, yeah,” Taako said. “Like, obviously, dude. My whole—my _family_ is here, like you said, and I can’t just _leave that_ , but sometimes… sometimes I wish things were different. I wish I could do more. See more. Get away from the same ol’ place I’ve always been.” Taako took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. “Sometimes I just… I feel so _trapped_.”

Kravitz stared at him for a moment, a look of surprise on his face. “That… that was incredibly honest of you,” he finally said.

“Yeah, well, if you can’t be honest with a guy after having a tickle fight with him and a ten-year-old, when can be honest with him, y’know?”

“That’s—that’s absolutely fair,” Kravitz agreed, taking another sip of his drink.

“Would you tell me what it’s like?” Taako whispered. “Out there?”

“Out where?” Kravitz asked.

“I dunno. Anywhere. Everywhere. All those places that aren’t— _here_.”

Kravitz was silent for a moment, worrying his lower lip between his teeth before placing his glass on the coffee table. “I—Taako, would you—come with me? Please?”

“S-sure thing, bubbeleh,” Taako said, somewhat taken aback and startled out of his pitiful little reverie and clearing his throat a few times. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Do I need to, like, put on my shoes or—”

“No, it’s nothing like that, I just—c’mon,” Kravitz said, standing to his feet. “You may want your jacket, though.”

Taako blinked, shrugged, and grabbed his magenta jacket from the back of one of the McDonald’s dining chairs.

He followed as Kravitz made his way to a window up the stairs and towards what appeared to be someone’s bedroom door. “It’s the only one with a balcony,” he said as he pushed the door open and made his way across the room. He stood in front of the glass balcony doors with a hand outstretched. “Come on.”

Taako scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What, are we gonna—we gonna smoke on the veranda and stare at the stars and confess our deepest, darkest secrets to one another? Maybe the universe will magically start playing some bullshit sad indie song while we slow dance or something?”

Kravitz just grinned. “You’ll never know if you don’t come with me.”

Taako sighed. “Yeah, okay, I guess,” he muttered before crossing over to the balcony.

To his surprise, Kravitz didn’t stop there, and Taako watched as the man grabbed onto the edge of the near-by roof and hoisted himself up.

“You, uh, you sure about this, my guy?” Taako asked, standing below Kravitz on the balcony.

“It’s a _roof_ , Taako. Surely it can hold the two of us.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, Krav.”

Kravitz rolled his eyes. “It’ll—it’ll be fine, Taako. I’ve… I’ve done this a few times. You’ll be okay,” he said, and then grinned a mischievous sort of grin Taako hadn’t seen on him all that often. “I’ll protect you.”

And Kravitz reached out his hand.

Taako huffed, looked around for a moment, and then took it. “If we fall off the roof and die it’s your fault,” he grumbled.

Kravitz just smiled at him and tugged him up onto the roof.

They climbed upwards for another minute before coming to where the roof peaked, and then suddenly there was nothing but the two of them and a million, billion stars.

Taako felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Here, look,” Kravitz said, taking Taako’s hand and tugging him over near the edge. He pointed out with his free hand, towards one of the mountains in the distance. “At the base of that mountain? Rockport. We—the orchestra did a guest performance there a few years ago. There’s a museum, there, made from marble from the mountain. It— _gods_ , Taako, it’s so—in the very centre there’s this massive dome that they had painted to look like the Pantheon of the Old Gods. I ate lunch underneath it for the entire week we were in the city.”

Taako opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Kravitz climbing over him to the other side of the roof, where Taako could just barely see the edge of the Anauroch desert. “Goldcliff is about an hour’s drive into the desert,” Kravitz said. “They hold a music festival in the centre of town every year, and people from all over Faerun come and play. If you stand in the middle of it and listen, it sounds like you’re standing in the heart of the world. There’s a cherry tree in the centre of the plaza, and people will leave gifts at its base before weddings or important dates for good luck, and—and in the evenings, when the sun sets over the plaza, all the buildings seem to glow.”

Kravitz barely gave Taako a moment to process his words before he was pulling Taako away again, towards the corner of the roof farthest from where they’d climbed up, where Taako could make out the faint outline of the Sword Coast and—

“Neverwinter,” Kravitz muttered, his words almost carried away with the evening breeze. “It's—Taako, it’s incredible. To be there, in the middle of—of _everything_ , I—I can hardly describe it. There was a food truck in the city square that made the best gyros I’ve ever tasted, and there was always _something_ going on, _something_ happening. And the concert hall—Taako, it’ll take your breath away, I promise. There’s so much history behind those walls, and—”

He took a deep breath and turned back to Taako. “And it’s all still out there, Taako. It’s real and it’s all there, waiting for you. And I—I believe you’ll get there, someday, if that’s what you want. You’re not stuck. You’re not trapped. You’re just—waiting for the right time.”

Taako stared out, out past the skyline of the city he’d always called home, out into the _world_ and everything that lay beyond.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, quickly reaching up and wiping his eyes. “Shit, I—”

“Are you alright?” Kravitz asked, finally dropping Taako’s hand and scooting backwards away from him as best as he could while they were both sat on top of a roof. “Fuck, I didn’t want—I didn’t mean to—”

“Shut the fuck up, dude,” Taako said, laughing weakly. He looked Kravitz over for a moment before scooting forwards and tugging him into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered into Kravitz’s shoulder.

“It—It was my pleasure, Taako.”

Taako quickly pulled away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “You’re fucking freezing,” he mumbled. “C’mon, thug, let’s get you back inside before we have to stick you into one of those body-lockers with all your dead friends.”

“They’re not— _they’re not my friends_ , Taako.”

“Whatever you say, kemosabe,” Taako replied, already scooching his way down the side of the roof and back towards the balcony. “We stay out here much longer and they will be.”

Kravitz didn’t reply, but somehow Taako knew he was following him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing Taako said when he arrived home from the McDonald household was, “I think I like Kravitz.”
> 
> Lup didn’t look up from where she was eating popcorn and watching fantasy Property Brothers. “Congrats, dingus. You’re officially the last to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL  
> Y'ALL  
> PROGRESS IS BEING MADE
> 
> also hi uhhhh this story is Not going to be done before I move because ummmm I move in three (3) days and these two nerds haven't even fucking kissed yet so um. pray for me and my dumb stupid ass as I try and finish this story while also moving to a new city, starting my first semester of university, getting a new job, and also, yeah, trying not to die of the fucking plague.
> 
> jeezy fucking creezy.  
> enjoy.

The first thing Taako said when he arrived home from the McDonald household was, “I think I like Kravitz.”

Lup didn’t look up from where she was eating popcorn and watching fantasy Property Brothers. “Congrats, dingus. You’re officially the last to know.”

“I—what the fuck do you mean, _last to know_? This is—this is a fucking _breaking news update from Taako tee-em Central_!”

“Not if they have, like. Eyes and ears, babe,” Lup replied. “Glad you finally figured it out, though.”

“ _Barold_ doesn’t know,” Taako argued.

“Hey babe! Would you c’mere for a sec?” Lup shouted, and a moment later Barry appeared around the corner of the doorway from their shared office, a pair of chunky old headphones looped around his neck.

“What’s up?”

“D’you think Taako likes Kravitz?”

“Uh, yeah? I thought we’d already been over—oh,” Barry paused in his ramblings as he noticed Taako standing in the doorway. “Hi, Taako.”

“’Sup.”

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna go now.”

“Good choice.”

Lup turned back towards Taako as her fiancé awkwardly shuffled out of the room. “You were saying?”

“You—shut up, alright?” Taako said, dropping his bag to the ground and coming around to flop down next to Lup on the couch. “Like—Listen, I don’t wanna hear it from you, okay? Like, okay, maybe— _maybe_ —this breaking news update isn’t, like, _technically_ breaking, but at least it didn’t take me _fifty fucking years—_ ”

“Fifteen! Fifteen years!”

“That’s not any fucking better, Lulu,” Taako said, stealing the bowl of popcorn from her lap.

Lup huffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she grumbled. “You were talking about your big, gay, _obvious_ crush on Angus’ hot goth uncle?”

Taako swatted her shoulder. “Don’t _say it like that_ ,” he insisted. “You make it sound like a fantasy Danielle Steele novel.”

“Well that’s what it is!”

“ _It_ is about to become the story of how Taako Taaco became an only child, and I’m not even remotely joking.”

“Fine, okay, whatever,” Lup said. “You were _saying_?”

“I was _saying_ that I like Kravitz. Like, romantically. I think.”

“You _think_?”

“Yeah, Lup, I fucking _think_!” Taako said, throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t—I’m not some fucking fairytale princess! I’m not gonna immediately fall in love with the guy and go galloping off into the sunset with him!”

“Okay, alright, that’s fair,” Lup admitted. “But you like him.”

“I _think_ I like him.”

“Romantically.”

“Last I fucking checked, that was the one that involved wanting to kiss his stupid emo face, so yeah, _romantically_.”

“You wanna kiss his face?”

“Fucking— _obviously_ , Lup! You’ve seen the man! Homeboy looks like a minor god!”

“Fair.”

“Hell yeah it’s fair,” Taako mumbled. “Asshole.”

“So you wanna kiss his face,” Lup prompted. “ _Aaaaaand?_ ”

“And—and he’s sweet, I guess. Nice. He cares about, like. Stuff. Music. Angus.”

“You?”

“Just—just hold your horses, okay?”

Lup stared at him for a second. “You—Taako, you realise you can be, like, excited about this, right?”

Taako stared at his hands. “I—I mean—”

“Taako, you’re allowed to like people who aren’t our family,” Lup said. “You—you’re allowed to have relationships with other people.”

“I _know that_ , Lup—”

“Then why are you—”

“Because everyone else is going to leave!” Taako said loudly. He would’ve jumped to his feet if it weren’t for the bowl of popcorn in his lap. “They—people who aren’t—everyone else, Lup? _Everyone else_? They don’t _matter_. They don’t matter because _they’re going to leave_. They’re not going to stick around! The only people who we know _for sure_ are going to be here are _us_. You, me, Barry. Magnus and Merle, too, I guess. The kid, at least until he graduates. But everyone else? They’re all just—they’re all just _dust_ , Lup.”

Lup was silent.

Lup was _never_ silent.

Taako glanced over at her and saw a look on her face that he didn’t recognise.

Taako recognized _all_ Lup’s faces.

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s _wrong_?” Lup repeated incredulously. “You—you just said that _everyone else is dust_ and you’re asking _me_ what’s wrong?”

“See, this—this is why I don’t talk about this shit,” Taako muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “You—listen, Lu, if you wanna sit around and sing fantasy _Kumbaya_ with every joe-schmoe who walks through the fucking door, be my guest, but… Taako’s good out here.”

Lup looked at him for another moment and ran her tongue over her teeth before letting out a deep breath and slouching back against the sofa. “So you’re not even going to think about asking him out?”

“I—fuck, Lup, I don’t know,” Taako sighed. “I mean, to be honest? I’ve already thought about it, pretty much. Like. Pretty extensively. A lotta… a lotta free brain power being sent Kravitz’s way, so, um, _that_ ship done sailed, but…” He stared down at his hands. “I dunno. ‘S all bullshit, honestly. Who wouldn’t wanna date me, y’know? I’m sorta—sorta the whole package. And even if it does end up as, like, a cataclysmic disaster, that’s, uh. That’s life, y’feel me? _Live fast die young, bad elves do it well_ and all… that. So, uh. Who knows. But it’s not—it’s not gonna be a _thing_.”

“Sounds like it.”

“I’m gonna dump all of this on your stupid head,” Taako said, gesturing down at the bowl in his lap. “You’re gonna be picking popcorn outta your hair for _weeks_. Don’t even try me.”

Lup laughed. “Sure, T,” she said, leaning over to yank on the end of his braid. “Whatever you say.”

**

“So, how’d your date with Kravitz go?” Magnus asked as he ducked into _Tostaada’s_ kitchen and tied on his apron.

Taako dropped the knife he was holding.

“I— _what_?!” he snapped. “What are—what the fuck—you—you can’t just _say shit like that_ while I’m holding a _knife_ , my good _fucking_ dude! D’you—do you _wanna_ get stabbed? Like for real?”

“I was just wondering how your date with Kravitz went!” Magnus said, throwing his hands up into the air. “Lup said that when you got home last night you were acting all weird and emotional and started talking about, like, some pretty heavy stuff, so I was just making sure I didn’t need to, y’know, give Death Boy some practical experience.”

Taako pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, so, _one_ ,” he said, holding up a single finger, “Lup is a dirty rotten liar and should _never_ be trusted. Two,” he held up a second finger, “please don’t kill Kravitz. Angus would _defo_ figure you out in fucking _no time_ , and the last thing we need is for the whole fucking restaurant to be the centre of a fucking _murder scandal_. And _three_ ,” he held up a _third_ finger, “I didn’t get _emotional._ I—Taako doesn’t do _feelings_ , kemosabe. You oughta know that by now.”

“Well Lup said—”

“What did I literally _just say_ about my sister, Magnus?”

“That she’s a dirty rotten lair and should never be trusted?”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” Taako said, plastering on a wide, fake smile as he patted Magnus on the shoulder. “Now, you get out there and start taking orders so that my beloved filthy gossip of a sister’s fiancé doesn’t beef it before the wedding, m’kay?”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Taako,” he said, a level of sincerity in his voice that made Taako’s skin crawl. “But, for what it’s worth, I think you—I think you should try. With Kravitz. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, dude?”

“Uh, he could turn out to be some, like, fucking wack serial killer guy? And try and kill me and my whole family? Which, um, includes _your_ dumb ass, so you might wanna think about _that_ , huh? Huh?”

“He’s not gonna try and _murder you_ , Taako,” Magnus argued. “He—you guys were alone in his house for, like, hours last night, and you’re still alive, so I think that’s definitely a mark in the _not going to murder you_ column.”

“That… hm,” Taako said, staring off into space. “That’s a good point.”

Magnus shrugged. “All I know is that if the way Kravitz makes you feel is anything like the way Julia makes _me_ feel, then you—you shouldn’t let this go, Taako.”

Taako huffed and rolled his eyes. “Listen, can I—this is why this is none of y’all’s _fucking_ business. Now you’re all going to be sappy and insufferable for the rest of time and I, Taako, am going to have to deal with that.”

“You love us,” Magnus replied with a shit-eating grin.

“I fucking—I tolerate you _at best_ , so don’t get it fucking twisted,” Taako corrected, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Now seriously, go. If Barry dies before the wedding Lup will legit light me on fire.”

“What about _after_ the wedding?”

“At least then there’s life insurance, my guy. Now am-scray, alright? Jeez.”

Magnus laughed and rolled his eyes before heading into the dining room, leaving Taako alone in the kitchen with nothing but a half-chopped head of broccoli and his thoughts.

**

“Fancy seeing you here,” Taako said as he watched Kravitz round the corner up ono the shitty metal bleachers of New Elfington Middle’s soccer field. “Bring any water this time?”

Kravitz rolled his eyes as he took a seat at Taako’s side. “Haha, you’re absolutely hilarious. I’m dying of laughter. Someone—someone call an ambulance, I think this counts as a medical emergency.”

“It’s one of my many talents.”

Kravitz smirked as he shook his head. “What about you? Bring any artificially flavoured sports drinks?”

“Yeah. Today’s menu consists of, uh, _Cucumber Lime_ and—and _Mango Extremo._ ”

“ _What_?”

“You heard that right, bub!” Taako said, barely able to contain his laughter. “We—our options for today are _shitty white person salad_ and _Mango Extremo_! I—Kravitz, I’m not even—I am not even _remotely_ capable of making this shit up.”

“That’s deplorable.”

“I know, right? I’m getting hives just thinking about it.”

Kravitz laughed and leaned backwards, propping himself up on his hand. It was sunny this weekend, and Taako was once again hiding out under Lup’s umbrella, a large, purple sunhat perched on his head and a shit-ton of sunblock rubbed into his skin.

Because Taako fucks around with a lot of stuff, but you know what he doesn’t fuck around with?

Skin cancer.

Kravitz squinted at him, the sun glaring down on him from outside of Taako’s shady umbrella sanctuary.

“Don’t they have, like, special lenses for your nerd glasses that help you see when it’s sunny out?” Taako asked. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep that up.”

Kravitz huffed and rolled his eyes. “Transition lenses don’t look good with my frames.”

“I can respect that. Gotta—gotta stay _fresh to death_ , eh, Grim?”

Kravitz gave him one of the sharpest side-eyes Taako had ever encountered and didn’t say a word.

“You, uh, you wanna piece of this sweet, shady action, thug?” Taako asked, scooching over to the side of the umbrella shade circle. “There’s enough room for two.”

“I—Are you sure?” Kravitz asked, head tilted to the side in a way that vaguely reminded Taako of a bird. “I wouldn’t want to—”

“Hey, Krav?”

“Yes, Taako?”

“I’m about to hit you with a little bit of Totally Truthful Taako Trivia, tee-em tee-em tee-em,” Taako said, pulling down his own set of shades (massive, purple, shaped like stars, _natch_ ) so hat he could look Kravitz in the eye, “So listen _super closely_ , m’kay, sweet cheeks?”

“Swee—yes. Fine. Okay.”

“If I had a problem with you doing a thing, I’d fucking say it,” Taako said. “I ain’t—Listen, bubbeleh, I dunno if you’ve noticed, but ol’ Taako here doesn’t exactly sit quietly. If shit’s wack, I’ll let you know. So when I say, ‘ _Hey, Kravitz, I don’t mind if you share my super dope umbrella with me—‘_ ”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s _Lup’s_ super dope umbrella—”

“I _sure as shit_ mean it, alright? Now get under here before you give yourself crows feet. Fuck.”

Kravitz stared at him for a moment, and Taako got the distinct impression he was blushing.

Dork.

“Alright,” he said, grabbing his water bottle and scooting over so that he was sitting next to Taako under the umbrella.

They were so close their thighs were almost touching.

Which was, like. Super chill.

“Happy now?”

“Yup. Yeah. Yes. Totally. Just—fucking _out of my fucking gourd_ with joy, Krav-cakes.”

“That’s actually the worst one you’ve come up with so far. I’m—I’m impressed, honestly.”

“Hell yeah, dude. I’m nothing if not impressive.”

“And modest.”

Taako just winked at him and turned back to the field as the game began.

They sat in silence for all of three minutes before Taako leaned over to Kravitz and whispered, “Hey, do you get, like, _any_ of this?”

Kravitz blinked twice. “Absolutely none.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool,” Taako said, watching as a bunch of eight-year-olds ran kicked a ball around some grass. Angus wasn’t out there at the moment, so Taako felt absolutely zero emotional investment in any of it.

“Do you…?”

“What, me? Understand a sport? What on _earth_ gave you the impression that I, Taako, _from TV_ , understand _any_ sports?”

Kravitz shrugged. “Thought maybe you were a cheerleader in high school or something.”

Taako laughed so hard he thought he was going to pass out. “M-me? Me? _Me_? A—a _cheerleader_? Are you—h-holy _shit_ , dude, what the fuck are you smoking, and can you give me the fucking—the fucking hook up? Holy ass _fucking_ shit!”

“It’s not _that_ wild a concept!”

“Uhhhh, except that it _totally fucking is_ , babe. Like. For real. Wow. Woooooow. Jeezy—Jeezy creezy and also juicy crust. That—you know what, Krav? I was wrong about you. You _are_ funny.”

“You could’ve just said you weren’t a cheerleader.”

“And deny myself this primo comedic experience? No way in hell, my guy,” Taako replied, wiping a stray tear from under his eye. “Hoo boyzee. Okay. Okay. I think I—I think I’m good now.”

“Glad to see you recovered.”

“Yeah, I fucking bet,” Taako said with a grin. “Hate for the next time you see me to be when I’m on your—your fucking slab at work.”

“I don’t _actually_ work in a morgue, Taako,” Kravitz insisted.

“Tomato-potato,” Taako replied breezily before some movement down by the bench caught his eye. “Hey look, our boy! Our boy is getting on the field! Whoooo! Go Agnes! Kick ass, pumpkin!”

Angus quickly looked up at the bleachers, a thousand-megawatt smile on his face as he gave them a thumbs-up.

Taako shot him some finger guns.

Angus dabbed.

It was, honestly, epic, and Taako had never in his life been so proud.

“Are you guys getting ice cream after this?” Kravitz asked as Angus ran onto the field.

“Uh, yeah. Obviously.”

Kravitz chuckled, and from what Taako could see from the corner of his eye, the look on the other man’s face was almost heartachingly fond.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I promised him we’d have a _Caleb Cleveland_ movie marathon tonight, so if you could have him home by six, that’d be—I’d really appreciate it,” he said.

“I—You’re not coming with?” Taako asked, quickly glancing over at Kravitz before snapping back to where Angus was…

Kicking…

The ball…

Fuck, Taako didn’t know anything about soccer, but he figured the fact that his boy was the one with the ball was probably a good thing.

“I—I wasn’t under the impression that I was invited,” Kravitz mumbled.

Taako sighed and reluctantly tore his eyes away from the game, praying to every fucking deity in the whole damn pantheon that _this_ wasn’t the moment that Angus chose to, like. Get the ball in the net or whatever.

“You came last time,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, well, I got the _distinct_ impression that you would, uh, prefer if I _hadn’t—_ ”

“Yeah, because I thought you were a pompous douchebag with an entire two-by-four jammed up your ass,” Taako explained. “How many times am I gonna have to say that you’re _good_ , my man?”

“Oh,” Kravitz said quietly. “I—once more, I suppose.”

“’ _Once more, I suppose.’_ Fuck, you really _are_ where Ango gets his nerd gene, aren’t you?”

Kravitz laughed, his eyes crinkling in the vaguely red light of their umbrella canopy. “If the shoe fits,” he said, rubbing at his chin.

“Yeah,” Taako said, smiling at him one last time before turning back to the game. “If the shoe fits.”

**

Taako had been staring at his ceiling for seventy-two minutes.

Ice cream had been good. Better than good, actually. One might even say great.

Which was honestly just?

Awesome. Peachy-fucking-keen.

Kravitz had been _sweet_. Kravitz had been _kind_. Kravitz had been _charming_. Kravitz had looked sappy and gross and adorable as Angus tried to explain the difference between good and bad clearance.

It had been disgustingly cute, and had led Taako to his final conclusion:

This whole thing was getting wildly out of hand.

He was _Taako_! He didn’t—he didn’t _pine_ after people, even if said people were ridiculously attractive and funny and smart and good with the only kid Taako had ever given a single flying shit about.

This was ridiculous. So what if Kravitz had a jaw line he could carve a Candlenights ham with? So what if he somehow always managed to make Taako laugh until his sides hurt? So what if Taako found himself hanging off of his every word, leaning in to listen like Kravitz was weaving gold out with nothing but his voice?

So what if his smile made Taako’s heart ache in his chest?

That didn’t mean _anything_.

Taako didn’t—Taako didn’t _need_ him. Taako didn’t _need_ anyone, except for Lup, obviously. Taako didn’t _care_.

Caring made people vulnerable, made them lower their defenses, made them _weak_ , and _fuck_ if Taako was going to put himself in danger like that.

Nope. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not.

That sappy, sentimental bullshit was for Magnus and Lup and Barry and—and everyone else. Not for Taako.

Taako was _smart_.

Taako was a _realist_.

Taako was _good out here_.

And yet…

Taako groaned and rolled over to bury his face in his pillow.

And yet, none of that changed the fact that Taako _wanted_ Kravitz.

He wanted to know what it’d feel like to wake up in those big, strong arms, to bury his face in that chest, to hold Kravitz close and listen to the steady _ba-bum_ of his heart as they both fell asleep.

He wanted to know what Kravitz looked like in the morning, soft with sleep. He wanted to know how Kravitz liked his eggs, liked his coffee, whether he was the kind of guy who took ages to get ready or rushed around last minute.

He wanted to know what his childhood had been like, what he’d wanted to be when he grew up, what his favourite colour was and why. He wanted to sit with him on a park bench or under the stars and reach out and take his hand. He wanted to talk about anything, everything, to keep each other up long into the night, laughing and smiling and watching shitty television.

He wanted…

He wanted to get close.

He wanted to let _Kravitz_ get close.

And Taako wasn’t good at denying himself anything that he wanted.

He huffed and fumbled around his nightstand until his hand came in contact with what he was looking for.

And accidentally smacked it onto the floor.

After a few minutes of awkward stretching and reaching and almost falling out of bed, Taako flopped back down against his pillow and carefully typed out a message.

_From: America’s Favourite Wizard (444-867-5309)_

_hey uh_

_do u wanna get dinner some time_

_like_

_just you and me_

_as a date_

_From: Grim (444-273-2737)_

_That sounds lovely. When are you free?_

Taako buried his face in his hands and hoped to all the gods that he hadn’t just committed the biggest fuck up of his life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You’re going on a date with the grim reaper?” ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, folks. here we are. the moment you've been waiting for.
> 
> _the date ___
> 
> __no but seriously this chapter was a bitch and a half to write and also! i just moved into my dorm! so that was wild._ _
> 
> __enjoy!_ _

“Taako! Taako, Taako, Taako! Sir, sir is it true, sir? Sir, is it true? Is it true you’re going on a date with my uncle Kravitz, sir?”

“Uhhhhh,” Taako said, halting his chicken seasoning as he noticed every head in _Tostaada’s_ kitchen whip towards him and the tiny boy detective currently hanging off his waist. “Um, I have to go. Right now. And take Angus. With me. At this exact moment. So that I can, um. Uh. Teach him some valuable life lessons! Yeah, yeah, that. Yes. Lup, you’re in charge, don’t wreck my kitchen, gotta go, _bye!_ ”

And with that, he took Angus by the hand and ran from the room.

“ _Is_ it true, Taako?” Angus asked once the two of them were safely sequestered on the tiny balcony outside the door to Taako, Lup, and Barry’s apartment. “Are you and Uncle Kravitz really going on a date?”

Taako sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I—yeah, little man. Yeah, we are.”

Angus was smiling like he’d just been told he was getting to meet the author of the _Caleb Cleveland_ novels.

Taako was quickly reminded of the _other_ reason he’d been so hesitant to ask Kravitz out.

“I—listen, boychik, don’t be—don’t be getting any _ideas,_ okay? It’s one date. One. _Sing-u-lar_ ,” Taako insisted. “It—the whole thing could very well be a fucking disaster, alright? I might have to—have to find some way to fucking erase memories my brain after this—this little _escapade_ , so. Don’t get your hopes up, alright?”

Angus didn’t stop smiling. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, sir. You and Uncle Kravitz are already friends! This—Your date won’t be a disaster, I just know it!”

Taako huffed and leaned against the balcony rails. “I… admire your optimism, kid,” he admitted. “But if—Angus, I need you to know that if—if things _do_ go, uh, _sideways_ between me and—me and your uncle, that doesn’t—it doesn’t have to change what we’ve got going here, okay? You—you’ll still be my boy, and you can still swing by whenever, and you—I’ll still be there, okay, pumpkin? I’ll be there… I’ll be there no matter what. Capiche?”

Angus blinked up at him for a moment before racing forward and launching himself into Taako’s arms at full force. “I—I capiche, sir,” he mumbled into Taako’s shirt, and Taako carefully ran his fingers through the boy’s hair.

“I love you, Taako,” Angus whispered, and Taako leaned over so that he could kiss the top of the boy’s head.

“Yeah, kiddo,” he muttered. “I love you too.”

**

“ _You’re going on a date with the grim reaper?”_ Lup yelled as Taako re-entered the kitchen.

She was the only person there, and Taako got the distinct impression she’d kicked everyone else out.

“He’s not the _grim reaper_ , Lu—"

“When! Did! This! Happen?!” Lup shouted, clapping on each word.

Taako sighed and turned back to his workstation. “I texted him last night—"

“You fucking _texted him_?”

“Yeah, I fucking texted him!” Taako yelled back. “I—what the fuck do you want me to do, Lup? Show up outside his house with a fucking boombox like fucking fantasy _Say Anything_? Send him a personally engraved coaster? Get it—get the whole thing fucking _notarized?_ ”

“I dunno, maybe _ask him in person_ like someone with a fucking _spine_?”

Taako huffed. “I thought you wanted this! I thought you— _you_ were the one who wanted me to _have relationships with other people—_ ”

“Yeah, and I’d also like you to tell me about this shit, T! We—we don’t _hide things_ from each other!” Lup said, throwing her hands in the air. She glared at him for another moment before crossing her arms over her chest. “Or at least _I_ don’t.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lup,” Taako snapped. “I—I was _going_ to tell you—”

“When?”

Taako sighed. “After.”

“ _After?!”_

“I didn’t—I didn’t want to tell you and then the whole thing fucking— _implode_! I— _this_ is why I didn’t want to tell you yet! Because now you’re gonna have all sorts of—of _expectations—_ ”

“You’re such a godsdamn idiot sometimes.”

“I beg your _fucking_ pardon?”

Lup rolled her eyes at him and turned back to the vegetables she was sautéing. “You—I don’t have any expectations for you, Taako,” she said. “I just—I want to know what’s going on inside your head, and I don’t want you to be so fucking _isolated_ all the damn time.” She sighed and Taako knew that if he could see her face, he’d see her gnawing on her lower lip. “If—if all of this between you and Kravitz ends up not working out or whatever, that—I won’t be _upset_ , T. I—okay. Well. If he hurts your or fucks you over or whatever, _then_ I’ll be _pissed_ , but not at you. I just… I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Uh, yeah, I fucking do. Twin code, bro. We worry about each other, we have each other’s backs, _we tell each other shit_. That’s how it is,” Lup said, turning back to Taako and placing her hands on his shoulders. “That’s how _we_ are. Taako and Lup, Lup and Taako, _together_. No matter what, you and me.”

Taako stared at her for a moment and then grinned. “You’re gonna give me fucking cavities, Lu.”

Lup laughed, the smile growing on her face. “So,” she said, hip checking him as she moved back to her stove. “This date. You got any idea what you’re gonna do?”

“I—Yeah, actually,” Taako said, sliding a pan of seasoned asparagus into his oven. “I’ve got—I’ve kinda got a plan.”

“Oh?”

“It’s—okay, so you know that place that just opened up down the street? The, uh, the wine and pottery place?”

“You’re _not_.”

“Oh my dearest Lup,” Taako said with a smirk, “I defo, _defo_ am.”

**

Taako was supposed to meet Kravitz at 6:00, so naturally Taako was ready to go by 3:00.

The outfit he’d picked out was _perfect_ , natch. He’d spent two hours digging through he and Lup’s closets searching for just the right thing—something nice but not _too_ nice, something comfortable and easy to move in, something _memorable_.

He’d picked out a flowy white blouse with pearl and lace appliques and tucked it into a pair of high-waisted black pants he’d stolen from Lup. Over that he’d layered a long, purple cardigan before finishing the whole _Look™_ with a healthy layer of silver jewellery, a pair of white lace socks, some black lace-up boots, and a lavender wide-brimmed hat.

It was eye-catching. It was sort of tacky in the best possible way. It was very _Taako_.

And now he was just _sitting_ in it, mindlessly scrolling through social media, only half reading the various blog posts that cluttered his feed.

What if he fucked it up? What if he—what if he said the wrong thing, or did the wrong thing, and Kravitz realised he didn’t _actually_ like him? What if Kravitz was just doing this to—to placate him? Let Taako take him out _once_ , just to say that they tried it, before telling him that, actually, he didn’t think it would work out and he was really, _very_ sorry.

What if Kravitz didn’t actually feel anything for Taako?

What if Taako didn’t actually feel anything for _Kravitz_?

What if his brain was just so desperate for affection and attention it was latching onto the nearest available target? What if they went out on this date and Taako realised he was just being overdramatic and ridiculous (as per usual) and he had to call the whole thing off halfway through?

What if he accidentally strung Kravitz along?

What if Kravitz accidentally strung _him_ along because he was too nice (and too scared of Angus) to say no, to break it off?

What if—

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” Lup said, crashing down onto the couch next to him and shoving a bowl of hot sauce and butter covered popcorn into his lap.

“Wha—”

“You’ve got the _look_ on your face,” Lup said. “The one that means you’re about to fuck something up for yourself because you think you might as well ruin it now so that someone else doesn’t ruin it later.”

“I—I don’t—”

“If you try to lie to me right now, I’m not letting you pick the movie.”

“Okay. Alright. Fine,” Taako relented, leaning against Lup’s shoulder and shovelling a fist full of popcorn into his mouth. “Then we’re watching fantasy _Narnia_ and you have to let me talk about costume design and how much I love fantasy James McAvoy.”

“Only if you let me talk about the music.”

“Obviously. Harry Gregson-Williams is a genius who deserves all the praise showered upon him.”

Lup nodded once before turning on the television. “So,” she said as she navigated her way to the fantasy- _Playstation_ channel, “you’re panicking.”

“What gave it away?” Taako asked, his tone flat as he rolled his eyes and grabbed another handful of popcorn.

“ _Why_ are you panicking?”

Taako glared at her from the corner of his eye.

“You’re really gonna choose _now_ to finally figure out how to shut the fuck up?”

Taako still didn’t reply.

“Look, T, either you tell me willingly, or I use twin powers to figure it out and dissect every part of your psyche in the process. It’s up to you, boo-boo.”

“I will tell you,” Taako said, “if you promise to never say the phrase _boo-boo_ again.”

Lup stuck out her hand and smiled. “Deal.”

Taako shook it before slouching down into the couch cushions. “It’s the usual shit, pretty much,” he said. “Y’know, trust issues, self-worth issues, fear of intimacy, the whole shebang.”

Lup didn’t reply, and Taako huffed.

“It’s like—it’s like, do I _like_ Kravitz, or do I like the _idea_ of Kravitz? And—and does he even like _me_? Like, he’d be stupid _not_ to, obviously, but what if he _doesn’t_? What if he—”

“You’re a dumbass, y’know that, right?”

Taako grinned. “Simple idiot chef, my dude, I dunno what to tell y—”

“No, shut the fuck up, that’s not what I mean,” Lup snapped. “You’re so fucking smart but—anyway, you’re a fucking idiot, alright? Like, he _agreed_ to go on this date with you. He’s not going to—he’s not fucking _pitying_ you or whatever.”

Taako hung his head backwards and stared at the ceiling. “I mean, yeah, of course, natch, I’m—I’m Taako, y’know? I just—I’m—”

“Afraid?”

“Yeah,” Taako muttered. “Yeah, Lu. I’m afraid.”

Lup sighed. “Sometimes…” she started and then huffed and ran a hand through her hair. “Sometimes good things are scary, at first, because you—because they’re new and you don’t know what to expect but—but they don’t stay scary forever, T. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

Taako smiled and leaned against her side. He held out his hand and wiggled his little finger. “Pinky promise?”

Lup grinned and lopped her finger with his. “Pinky promise,” she said. “So. You wanna watch our childhood comfort movie or not?”

“Yeah, alright,” Taako said, rolling his eyes and snuggling closer to his sister as she clicked the movie on.

“Oh shit,” Lup said as the credits rolled, sitting up abruptly and nearly headbutting Taako. “It’s 5:30! Aren’t you supposed to meet Ghostrider at 6:00?”

“Yes…”

“Well then what the fuck are you still doing here? Go!”

Taako tugged on the brim of his hat, falling backwards across his sister’s lap. “This is—Lup—listen, Lup, talk me outta this—”

“Absolutely the _fuck_ not,” Lup said, shoving Taako upright. “Listen, this—here’s what you’re gonna do, okay? You’re gonna go on this date and you’re gonna knock Kravitz’s _fucking_ socks off, and if he tries anything, we’re going to go all fantasy _Sweeney Todd_ on his ass and start serving meat pies. Sound good?”

Taako sighed before nodding. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Great,” Lup said. “Now get a move on, loverboy. Your knight in fantasy Hot Topic armor awaits.”

**

When he arrived at the _Chug ‘N_ Squeeze, Taako found that Kravitz was not, in fact, _awaiting_ on him. In a fucking remarkable turn of events, _Taako_ seemed to be the one awaiting on _Kravitz_.

Which was…

Not. Not the best sign.

Not great.

Kinda… kinda sucky.

 _Fuck_.

He’d reserved their seats the day before, and there was already a bottle of cabernet sauvignon waiting for him when he arrived.

He probably drank more of it than he should’ve, all things considered.

Taako was honestly considering calling Lup and telling her to start working on her fucking fantasy Johnny Depp impression when suddenly there was Kravitz, his hair damp from the drizzle of rain outside, wearing a long, black coat that honestly could’ve passed as a cloak if he’d wanted it to.

Kravitz looked…

Well, Kravitz looked _amazing_ , as per usual. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome _always_ looked pretty damn good—not as good as Taako, natch, but _pretty damn good_ —but that night?

If Taako had been the poetic sort (which he was _not_ because he was _not a godsdamn nerd_ ), he would’ve said that that night, Kravitz looked _ethereal_ , like one of the old gods painted on the roof of the building he used to eat lunch in.

His locs were half-pulled up and out of his face in a twisted knot and a pair of gold, wire-framed glasses sat perched on his nose. He wasn’t wearing a suit for once, instead wearing a deep purple button-down patterned with black and grey roses, black slacks, and black oxford shoes.

Which was just, like, _rude_. How dare he make Taako _wait_ and then show up looking like _that_? Like—how was Taako supposed to be upset with him when he looked like a character on the front cover of a fucking tacky vampire romance novel?

Fuck.

“Over here, my dude!” Taako said, lifting a hand. “Hurry up, they’re about to start.”

And sure enough, in front of the room, a young half-orc man wearing a pair of chunky square-framed glasses and a green polo shirt was setting up his own pottery wheel.

“Taako, I’m—I’m so sorry I’m late, Taako,” Kravitz said, sliding into his seat and running a hand over his hair. “I—I was about to leave when I realized I hadn’t set up, like, a sitter for Angus or anything—”

“Krav, the kid solves murders for pocket money,” Taako replied, trying his best to sound just as annoyed as he had been a moment ago and not… endeared.

Being late was not _endearing_.

“I know! I know, I just—I don’t know. I just thought it’d probably be irresponsible to leave him by himself this late, so I was trying to think of who I could call to watch him, and—”

“I’m sure Angus _loved_ that,” Taako interrupted again, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch upwards despite himself.

 _No._ No. This wasn’t— _no_. Kravitz had been _late_. That was _rude_. The fact that he’d been late because he was worrying about Angus didn’t change anything.

Kravitz chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “He, uh. He didn’t _particularly_ appreciate it.”

“I bet,” Taako said, laughing as Mr. Green Polo handed them each a ball of clay. “You should’ve—fuck, Krav, you should’ve seen the kid the first time I tried to slice something up for him. He got so—he was all like, _‘Mr. Taako, sir, I’ve confronted serial killers before, I’m pretty sure I can slice my own tomato.’_ And he didn’t—as if that’s a fucking _normal_ thing for a fucking _eight-year-old_ to say.”

Kravitz laughed a little louder at that, turning to look down at the clay in front of them. “He’s, uh—he’s something else, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, something like a fucking dork,” Taako agreed. “So, did you get him a sitter?”

“No,” Kravitz admitted. “But he has to stay at the house and keep the doors locked, so that’s… something? Is that something?”

“Fuck, man, I don’t know,” Taako said. “I just—I usually just tell him to keep pepper spray on him and if shit goes sideways to call me.”

“He’s going to be the death of us, isn’t he?”

“Fucking—fucking probably. Kid gives me grey hairs. _Me!_ Taako, y’know, _from TV_? I’m getting _grey hairs_ over that kid.”

“You were—you were on TV?” Kravitz asked as he awkwardly tried to shape the clay in front of him into something vaguely resembling a vase.

Taako blushed and turned back to his own (absolutely perfect, both tasteful and fucking _rad_ , natch) vase. “I—for a bit, yeah,” he said. “Not anything—I wasn’t fucking fantasy Rachel Ray or whatever, but I… had a little show on Saturday mornings, sorta between the morning news and, like, fantasy _60 Minutes_ , where I’d, like, show people how to make different things out of local ingredients,” he explained. “It was pretty fucking sweet, obviously, Taako doesn’t do anything that _isn’t_ absolutely choice as hell, but… yeah.”

“What happened?” Kravitz asked. “Why’d you stop?”

“I, uh, I thought I was going to move to Neverwinter,” Taako said softly. “For—To go to, like, _actual_ culinary school, so I had—I had this assistant, Sazed, who didn’t—he didn’t _really_ cook because he was, frankly, absolute dog shit, but he helped me with prep and he’d act as my taster and shit, so when I announced I was leaving, he… he asked if he could take over the show.”

Taako sighed.

“I didn’t want to let him because, like, how can you _Sizzle It Up! With Taako_ without Taako, y’know? And _Sizzle It Up! With Sazed_ just doesn’t have that _je ne sais qoi_ , so I said no, sorry, but this—I wasn’t gonna let him run my show into the fucking ground. Which pissed him off, which, like. Fair, I guess. But, like, instead of fucking _stowing his shit_ like a godsdamn _adult_ , he decided to give my audience fucking salmonella. Swapped out the chicken I’d made, which was cooked to fucking _perfection_ , for some old, half-expired shit that he’d barely fucking warmed up. People started getting sick pretty much immediately, and after that… well. They don’t really let chefs who give people food poisoning have morning television shows, so that was that, pretty much.”

Kravitz stayed silent for the whole sad, rambling story, and Taako sort of felt like melting into the fucking floor.

What the fuck was it about this guy that made Taako want to fucking— _exposit_ _his whole godsdamn backstory_ like some sort of annoying, incompetent movie villain?

“I—I’m so sorry, Taako,” Kravitz said finally. “That sounds—that sounds awful.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t—it wasn’t exactly the best day ever,” Taako agreed. “For a while, they thought it was my fault—a couple people actually tried to press charges—but Lup threatened to light Sazed on _fucking_ fire and he confessed pretty soon after that.”

“But you… you didn’t get to do your show again?” Kravitz asked.

“By that point, we were—we’d already started fixing up _Tostaada’s_ , and I—listen, man, I’m pretty—I’m pretty fucking great, but I’m only one elf. I can only do so much, and running a restaurant _and_ doing a wildly popular regional cooking show seemed like something of a stretch.”

“Well I’m—I’m sure it was wonderful,” Kravitz said after another moment of quiet.

“Fuck, okay, new conversation,” Taako said, taking another drink of his wine. “We—Sheesh, that was—way to be a fucking Debbie downer, huh? Anyways. Your vase looks like the victim of a pottery hate crime, my dude.”

Kravitz reeled backwards, snorting so hard that Taako was surprised he didn’t drop the glass of wine he was holding. “I—surely it’s not _that_ bad,” he tried to defend, and Taako shook his head.

“Nah, dude, that—that’s the fucking vase the gods forgot. Look, is that—is that supposed to be a handle? On a vase? Kravitz, babe, are you, like, _good_?”

“I thought it’d be useful! For, like, filling it up and whatever!”

“You’re hopeless,” Taako said. “I can’t believe this. You—you walk around all day in your fancy suits with your fancy fucking death job, all _oh ho ho I’m Kravitz and I’m super handsome and play a million instruments, aren’t I a reasonable, capable adult_ and then you _burn pasta_ and think you should put a _handle_ on a _vase_.”

“So you think I’m super handsome?” Kravitz asked, raising a single eyebrow and grinning wildly.

“I think you’re a fucking menace and an absolute dumbass is what I think,” Taako grumbled before leaning over to take a closer look at Kravitz’s vase. “Gods, you really are hopeless. Here, just move your—fuck, okay, lemme just…” He placed his hands on top of Kravitz’s and winced. “Oh boy. Oh, boy howdy, that is a clammy one.”

“Sorry, I just—poor circulation, and then with the rain—”

“No no, you’re good, kemosabe. Just—see, here, like this. You gotta apply _some_ pressure so that, like, shit takes shape, but you can’t press _too_ hard or it’ll fall in. It’s—it’s finicky,” Taako said, the words growing soft as he guided Kravitz’s hands over the clay.

 _Gods_.

He was having romantic feelings in a fucking _Chug ‘N Squeeze_.

“This is, uh—this is some fantasy _Ghost_ shit, huh?” Taako said, chuckling awkwardly. “Like, uh, I’m kinda afraid you’re gonna take me to ghost jail for necromancy crimes, here.”

“I—that’s not a part of fantasy _Ghost_.”

“No but like—you’ve got the whole _goth_ thing going, which is super hot but also gives off, like, _hella_ strong grim reaper vibes, so like—y’know. Take me to—to ghost jail. Or whatever.”

“Do you _want_ me to take you to ghost jail?” Kravitz asked, tilting his head to the side. “Is that—is that, like, a kink for you?”

Taako laughed so hard he almost crushed Kravitz’s now semi-passable vase. “Who—you never know until—fuck, it might be,” he stammered. “Guess you’ll—guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Guess I will,” Kravitz agreed with a wink, and Taako felt his face heat up.

For not the first time, he wondered what, exactly, he’d gotten himself into.

“I, uh, I had a lovely evening, Taako,” Kravitz said as they stepped out of the Chug ‘N Squeeze and into the brisk evening air. It’d stopped raining, at some point, but it was still chilly enough for Taako to wish he’d brought something heavy than his purple cardigan.

“Uh, yeah. Same, um. Same here, my dude,” Taako said, pulling his sweater tighter around him. “I’d—Uh, if you wanna, like… do it again? Sometime? That—I’d get—I’d be down. For that. Yeah.”

“You—Taako, you look like you’re freezing,” Kravitz said, look him over. He quickly started slipping out of his long black coat. “Here, take—you’re going to catch your death.”

“I’m fine, Krav, I prom—”

“Please?” Kravitz asked, taking his hands again.

They were still chilly, but as cold as Taako was, he couldn’t help but squeeze them tighter.

“I—Fine. Fine!” he said, slipping into the soft, well-worn wool. It smelled like Kravitz—like sandalwood and bergamot and cinnamon. “But don’t—I make no promises that you’re getting it back, alright? Like—you can ask Lup or Magnus or anyone, really, once I—once something enters Taako’s closet, there’s no guarantee of it ever leaving.”

“I think I can live with that,” Kravitz said softly, smiling at Taako like he’d hung not only the moon but also the sun and all the stars.

And Taako leaned up.

And kissed him.

Quickly, chastely, barely more than a brush of the lips before he was pulling away, Kravitz’s coat still warm and heavy on his shoulders. “I—I’ll call you, m’kay?”

“I—yeah,” Kravitz muttered, as if in a daze. “That sounds—that sounds good.”

Taako laughed and squeezed Kravitz’s hands one last time. “Have a good night, Kravitz.”

He left because Kravitz could reply, his fingers pressed to his lips and a giddy smile on his face.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all. y ' a l l. this! is why! i wanted to finish this! before i moved in! because my life is a fucking madhouse and finding the time and motivation to write is like finding coffee on campus that isn't shitty
> 
> aka, _nigh on fucking impossible _.__
> 
> __but. but! here we are! with a new chapter! a long one! with multiple scenes! and characters! and some set up for the next chapter, which includes the introduction of another beloved character, _so _____
> 
> ____enjoy_ _ _ _

They went on another date. And another. And _another_. They went on so many dates that people started calling it _dating_ , which—

Which Taako was honestly trying really hard not to think about, tee-bee-aych. Like, he didn’t—things were fun and fresh and light and breezy, and the last thing _Taako_ needed was to think about, like, _commitment_ or anything, so.

Here they were, noncommittally grocery shopping together.

Just two—just two bros who went on dates at least twice a week and sometimes kissed, grocery shopping together, y’know, _casually_.

Like one does.

_Fantasy Jesus Christ._

Okay, so maybe things weren’t as casual and non-committed as Taako was pretending they were, that was—that was _fine_. He was _good_. Defo, defo _not_ panicking. Nope. Nuh-uh.

Taako _Cool As A Cucumber, Absolutely Chill, Don’t Even Worry About It, Natch_ Taaco, that was him.

“ _Please_ tell me you didn’t just put _fantasy Best Choice brand olive oil_ in my _professional chef’s cart_.”

Kravitz froze in place, his hand still hovering over the offending bottle.

“Olive oil was on the list!” he defended.

“Yeah, _olive oil_ , not _absolutely fucking garbage sauce_ You expect me to make vinaigrette with _that_? Really?”

“Can you _not_ make a vinaigrette with fantasy Best Choice olive oil?” Kravitz asked, tilting his head to the side. “Is it vinaigrette-proof?”

“It may as fucking well be!” Taako said, throwing his hands in the air. “I can’t believe I caught my b— _you_ planning the world’s worst murder-homicide. Angus will be so proud.”

“It’s not going to _kill us—_ ”

“You’re right, it’s not, because _I’m_ removing it from the cart before it can do any more damage,” Taako said, picking up the oil and placing it back on the shelf. “That’s just—it’s _irresponsible_ , Krav.”

“Are there—are there any more cardinal culinary sins I should be aware of?” Kravitz asked, a small, sincere smile on his face that made something in Taako’s stomach turn.

Taako narrowed his eyes at Kravitz for a moment. “Depends,” he said.

“Oh, gods, this sounds like a test.”

“Maybe so.”

Taako grinned as Kravitz’s eyes widened. “I—Taako, I’m—whatever this is, Taako, I’m going to fail it.”

“That’s on you, my man.”

Taako would be the first to admit that grocery shopping wasn’t exactly a _conventional_ date, but fighting for pseudo-custody of a shared pseudo-son-slash-nephew-slash-apprentice wasn’t a conventional way of meeting the person you were going on dates with, so Taako figured it was pretty par for the course.

And if he was going to be cooking for Kravitz and Angus, then Kravitz was going to go shopping with him. Them’s just the fucking breaks.

“Is this cheese okay?” Kravitz asked, holding up a bag of cotija cheese. “It—it’s on the list and it _looks_ okay, but if fantasy Best Choice olive oil is immune to vinaigrette, then I don’t wanna take any risks with getting elote-proof cheese.”

Taako smirked as he took the bag from Kravitz’s hand and carefully peered over it for a solid 90 seconds before tossing it into the cart.

“Yup.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

“’S the only way to live, Ghost Rider.”

Kravitz smiled and rolled his eyes as he followed Taako down the aisles. “I never asked,” he started as they made their way to the produce, “how’d you learn to cook? You’re incredible, but you said yourself that you’ve never had any formal training, so I was wondering—”

“My aunt,” Taako interrupted, picking up a tomato and turning it over in his hands. “She’s the one who ran _Tostaada’s_ before me and Lup did, and she—we ended up with her after our parents fucking bounced and the rest of our family got sick of us. She put us both to work in the kitchen pretty quick. I did a lot of, like, cooking, and Lup baked, mostly, but we both—we’re both absolutely killer at both, natch.”

Kravitz smiled as Taako placed the tomato in the basket of their cart and moved over to the asparagus. “She sounds like a lovely woman,” he said softly, and Taako huffed.

“I mean—it fucking depends on how you define _lovely_ , my man,” he said. “Like, she wasn’t—she wasn’t _soft_ or _gentle_ or anything like that. She was loud and blunt and didn’t put up with anyone’s shit, but she was—I dunno. Kind, I guess.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Kravitz said, a smug sort of grin on his face, and Taako glared at him even as he felt his cheeks heating up.

“You keep that sappy shit away from me, comprende?” he said. “I don’t—listen, bub, I don’t—I’m not gonna spill _the hidden truth of my innermost self_ at a fantasy Aldi, alright? That ain’t—that’s not how we do here at Casa del Taako, got it?”

“I got it,” Kravitz replied.

The look on his face said that he didn’t get it at all, and Taako huffed and rolled his eyes. “Go pick out a couple ears of corn, would you? I think we’re gonna need five or six.”

Kravitz smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to Taako’s cheek. “I’ll do my best to meet your professional standards.”

Taako swatted his shoulder and felt blood creeping up to the tips of his ears. “You’d fucking better. Professor Taako is on the clock, bubbeleh, and he demands _perfection_.”

Even so, Taako couldn’t find a single thing to complain about as Kravitz winked at him over his shoulder as he made his way over to the corn.

It was terrifying, but Taako found himself thinking he wouldn’t change it for all the name-brand olive oil in fantasy Aldi.

**

“Krav’s coming over after we close,” Taako said as he handed Barry a bowl of Mediterranean salad and a plate of grilled chicken with mango chutney. “I think he’s bringing the kid, too, so—listen, I know it’s a big fucking ask with you bonerheads, but if you could, uhhh, _not_ act like a gaggle of fucking idiots, I’d, like, _super_ appreciate it.”

“T, you realise they’ve both, y’know, _met us_ , right?” Lup asked, looking at Taako over her shoulder. “Like, not to rain on your parade, bro, but they’ve both seen us act like, um. Ourselves.”

Taako glared and threw a hand towel at her. “Can we not _attempt_ to—to be better? Are we destined to simply stay stagnant for the whole of our petty, inconsequential existences, or can we strive to move _beyond_ our lesser, baser instincts?”

Barry looked between the two of them for a moment. “I think I’m gonna go.”

Lup blinked at Taako a few times. “You’re such a pretentious asshole, you know that, right?”

“It’s a talent, darling,” Taako replied. “But seriously, if you chucklefucks could _be cool_ for one night, that would be just—absolutely choice as hell.”

Lup smiled. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I—What? Me? Taako? Serious? Are you—Lulu, are you feeling okay? You good? Because I could’ve sworn you just asked if _I_ , Taako, your beloved older brother—”

“We’re fucking _twins_ —”

“Was _serious_ , even though, as you and I both know, the only thing I’m serious about is the correct way to scramble eggs and keeping your absolute numpty of a fiancé _away_ from my fucking kitchen.”

“Barry literally _works_ in your fucking kitchen—”

“And every day we’re fucking tempting fate, don’t remind me.”

Lup sighed and smiled at him, rolling her eyes again. “Alright,” she said. “We, uh—I guess I’ll keep Barry from talking about his newest experiment over the best way to preserve individual lizard organs—”

“Yes, yeah, and if you could do me one more solid and actually never mention that again _ever_ , that’d be really cool too—"

“I’m happy for you, Taako,” Lup interrupted, looking at Taako with big, honest eyes.

Taako scoffed. “That’s disgusting. Get out of my sight.”

Lup laughed and hip-checked him before turning back to her work.

Taako turned back to his own station and pretended he wasn’t holding back a smile.

“So, uh, this is—welcome to my fantasy crib, I guess,” Taako said as he opened the door for Kravitz and ushered him in. “The—the bathroom’s that door on the right, the stairs go up to my and Lup and Barry’s rooms, there’s, uh, there’s an office and a bar, obviously, so—”

“Taako, you don’t—you don’t need to be nervous, dear,” Kravitz replied, placing a hand on Taako’s shoulder. “It’s just dinner.”

“ _Just dinner_ , he says. As if there’s such fucking thing as _just dinner_. Pft.”

“Is there… is there _not_ such thing as _just dinner_?” Angus asked from Kravitz’s side, and Taako clutched dramatically at his chest.

“ _Agnes_ ,” he said, “Have I taught you _nothing_?”

“Sir, I’ve seen you eat a fantasy hot pocket at 11.00 p.m. while hiding behind a dumpster,” Angus said resolutely, “And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t count that as an event of great social or cultural importance.”

“I also wouldn’t count that as _dinner_ ,” Taako replied. “That was a display of the true tragedy of man, Ango. You’ll learn about it when you’re older.”

“I’m not sure I _want_ to, sir.”

“No one ever does.”

“So, are we eating up here?” Kravitz asked, interrupting with a look of only mild concern on his face. “I don’t—not to cast dispersions, but I don’t see a table.”

“I also don’t see the fucking queen of fantasy England,” Taako said. “We’re eating in the living room, my man. We’ve got TV trays around here somewhere, and I promise that elote tastes just as good while you’re watching the fantasy Great British Bake Off.”

“We’ve always eaten at the table when I come over, Taako,” Angus said, pushing his big-ass nerd glasses up his nose.

“Very—very perceptive of you, Agnes,” Taako said, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Way to use your keen detective brain there, kiddo.”

“Is this—”

“How about you guys make yourself at home while I, uh—while I go check on the corn, m’kay? Sound good? Sounds good,” Taako said, stammering wildly as he smiled at Kravitz and Angus before racing out of the room.

“This was a fucking mistake,” he said as he slammed the kitchen door behind him.

Lup barely looked up from where she was washing a massive soup pot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means—it means that this was a fucking _mistake_ , Lulu!” Taako repeated. “You need me to slow it down for you? Run it by you in fucking Elvish?”

At this, Lup finally looked up. “ _Why_ is it a mistake, then?” she asked. “I haven’t heard any crying or screaming. It sounds like things are going good.”

“They’re up there! In our house! Where we live! Lup!”

“I know, Taako.”

“ _I shit up there, Lup!_ ”

“Hopefully not—hopefully not in the living room—”

“I mean—"

Lup interrupted, wrinkling her nose, “I’m gonna stop you right there. For my—for my own continued sanity, I’m going to assume that you’re talking about the apartment in general and that you haven’t _literally taken a dump in our living room_.”

“That’s probably for the best, honestly.”

“So you’re flipping shit because Angus and Kravitz are in our house…” Lup prompted, and Taako groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“It’s not—It’s just—We _live up there_ , Lup, and now they—they’re going to _see it_ , and—how is that _not_ freaking you out?”

“Uh, maybe because I’m not terrified of emotional vulnerability?”

“Who’s the pretentious asshole _now_ , huh?”

“Uhhhh, I’m _pretty_ sure it’s still you, bud.”

Taako huffed and stared up at the ceiling. “You’re not even a little bit scared of—of it? Of people getting tired of us or—or deciding that we’re not worth it?”

“I mean, I—fuck, Koko, I’m not gonna say I’m _not even a little bit scared_ , but—” Lup took a deep breath. “You can’t say you’re not happier, now. You can’t say that all this isn’t worth a little fear.”

“Yeah,” Taako muttered. “Yeah, I guess so. Fuck. I just—I just left them alone up there. Angus has probably snooped through all our shit.”

Lup shook her head. “Rookie mistake, T.”

“Yeah, I—yeah. How much time’s left on the corn?”

“You’ve got eyes.”

“ _’You’ve got eyes_ ,’” Taako repeated sarcastically. “Gods forbid you give me, your lovingest, onliest twin brother, any help.”

“Look, you wanna trade? You wanna scrub scalded tomato bisque off a massive fuck-all pot? Because I’d be fucking _happy_ to—”

“Actually, on second thought, I can handle the corn,” Taako said, waving Lup off as he carefully opened the oven.

Ten minutes left, if his estimate was right.

Which is always was.

Natch.

“You’d better go make sure Creepy and the Brain haven’t found your secret fantasy _Project Runway_ boxset,” Lup said with a grin. “Can’t have them knowing about your secret crush on fantasy Tim Gunn.”

“I don’t have a fucking _crush_ on _Tim fucking Gunn_!” Taako shouted. “I just appreciate his eye for design, _fuck you_!”

“Uh-huh,” Lup said with a smirk. “Better go make sure your boy toy knows that.”

Taako flipped her off and marched out of the kitchen.

It was fine.

Really.

It was just—

So maybe Taako had some issues with, like, emotional vulnerability. Fucking sue him, okay? Like, who the fuck _doesn’t_ , honestly? He wasn’t—he wasn’t the fucked up one, here, okay? He was _absolutely fucking good_ , y’know?

And he—fucking gods help him, he _trusted Kravitz and Angus_ , which was its own fucking can of worms but, like, at least there was that. At least he could say with 80%-ish confidence that he knew Krav and Ango weren’t currently in the midst of rifling through he and Lup’s and Barold’s shit in order to find some massive dirt on them.

At least he could say that they weren’t going to drop him like a fucking hot potato right after he let them into his—his whole, like, shit.

Probably.

Hopefully.

_Fuck_.

“Corn should be ready in ten,” Taako said as stepped back into the living room.

And found Kravitz and Angus standing exactly where he’d left them.

“You guys know you can, like, sit down, right?” he asked. “Like, Magnus built all this shit, so it’ll—these babies aren’t breaking any time soon. You don’t gotta stand there like you’re waiting for your fucking executions.”

“We, uh, we didn’t want to—”

“To sit? You didn’t want to sit?”

“We didn’t know if there was some sort of designated spot for us, sir,” Angus said. “We wouldn’t want to take someone else’s seat.”

“This isn’t homeroom, boychik,” Taako explained. “We don’t have assigned seats.”

Neither Angus nor Kravitz moved a muscle.

“Sit down! Please! Gods, you’re both—it’s like a fucking seminar in social awkwardness in here, you’re killing me. Literally, I’m on my death bed, here, because the two of you are such fucking goofuses you refuse to _sit on a fucking couch_.”

“Okay, okay,” Kravitz said, taking a seat at one end of the sofa. “Is this okay?”

“It’s a couch, Krav. It was literally designed for you to put your ass on it. You’re good.”

Angus looked between the two adults and cautiously took a seat at his uncle’s side, and Taako sighed and rolled his eyes before flopping down beside him.

“Hatchi matchi, was that so hard? The answer is no, it wasn’t, you two are both just socially inept.”

Taako steadfastly ignored the incredibly sappy expression Kravitz was shooting at him over Angus’ head.

“How was your day, sir?” Angus asked, smiling up at Taako. “I’m guessing it went well, seeing as you haven’t threatened to attack either of us with a kitchen utensil.”

Taako rolled his eyes and smiled. “Good detective work there, kid,” he said. “It, uh, y’know. It was a day, y’feel me? Like, as far as days go, it was—it was one of ‘em. Not, like, _catastrophic_ or anything, but it’s defo not breaking into _Taako’s Top Ten_ on the best day ever list.”

“Well that—that’s something, at least,” Kravitz said.

“Pretty much dead on, my dude,” Taako agreed. “What about you fools, huh? How’s it hanging over at good ol’ Mickey-Dee’s?”

“Mickey-Dee’s?” Kravitz repeated.

“You know, like fantasy McDonald’s,” Taako said. “Because you guys—wait.”

Kravitz and Angus both stared at him as Taako made an earth-shattering discovery.

“Your last name isn’t McDonald,” he said, slowly turning towards Kravitz.

“I—no?” Kravitz said, eyebrows furrowing together. “It’s McAllister, why is that—”

“ _Holy shit_.”

“Taako?” Kravitz asked. “Did you—Taako, did you _just now_ realise my last name isn’t McDonald? Did you not know my last name?”

Taako grabbed a pillow from the end of the couch and buried his face in it. “You’re his uncle!” he said. “What was I—it makes sense!”

“Sir, Uncle Kravitz was my mom’s brother,” Angus said. “And my mom married my dad and chose to take his last name, so—”

“Yeah, okay, that—hey, hey, kid? Kiddo? Pumpkin?”

“Yes, Taako?”

“No one likes a smartass.”

“We all seem to like you well enough,” Kravitz said, poking Taako in the side.

“I can’t believe this,” Taako grumbled, peeking out over the edge of the pillow. “This—the amount of homophobia in this room is ridiculous and I won’t stand for it.”

“Who’s being homophobic?” Lup asked as she poked her head into the living room.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Lup, no one is actually being homophobic,” Angus said helpfully. “We’re simply pointing out holes in Taako’s logic and he doesn’t appreciate it.”

“Oh, word?” Lup asked. “That’s, like, my favourite pastime. What’d the dumbass do this time?”

“ _My own sister—_ ”

“He thought Uncle Kravitz’s last name was McDonald, even though Uncle Kravitz is related to me on my mother’s side.”

Lup started laughing so hard that she had to lean against the doorframe for support.

“That’s it,” Taako said, standing up and dramatically throwing the pillow he’d been holding to the floor. “I’m moving to fantasy Tibet to become a reclusive goat herder and there’s nothing you dingbats can do to stop me. Say your goodbyes, folks! The Taako show is hitting the road! I’m leaving forever! The only time you’ll hear from me is when I send you smelly hand-knitted goat hair sweaters for Candlenights, and that’s if you’re _real fucking lucky_!”

“You wouldn’t last a fucking day without us and you know it,” Lup said once she’d recovered from her fit of laughter. “By the way, your corn beeped. Might, uh, might wanna go check on that.”

“It—Fuck!” Taako said, pushing past Lup out the door and down to the kitchen. “If this shit is burned because you idiots decided to waste time bullying me, I’m going to shove you all into the food processor and turn you into marinara sauce, I swear to the gods!”

The sound of laughter followed him all the way down the stairs, but for some reason, Taako couldn’t find it within him to be upset by it.

**

The scene Taako witnessed when he entered the kitchen was one of complete and utter chaos.

He’d taken a much needed and honestly much too short 30 minutes _eat-some-instant-noodles-and-take-a-piss_ break expecting that, y’know, his family could _fucking handle it_ , but, uh, apparently the fuck _not_ , it seemed, because there was Magnus, holding a fire extinguisher like he was preparing to use it as a blunt force weapon. Barry looked absolutely _mortified_ in a way Taako hadn’t seen since he’d told him that he couldn’t swim back in high school. Lup was rubbing circles into his shoulders with a look of mild disappointment and absolute resignation on her face. Ren was sitting at the counter with a stack of papers, a pen, and their biggest liquid measuring cup filled to the brim with what Taako hoped was red wine and not blood.

“Hey, uh, hey gang?” he asked as he stared at the disaster hellscape in front of him. “What the _fuck_?”

“I would just like to state for the record that none of this was my fault,” Magnus said with all the confidence and conviction of a man who had, on many occasion, been the one _at fault_ for similar scenes of absolute unholy madness. “If you look at the evidence and listen to the testimony of multiple witnesses, you’ll find that _Barry_ was absolutely the one who started the fire and that I, Magnus ‘the Hammer’ Burnsides, heroically rushed into the flames and pretty much saved the day.”

“He pointed the fire extinguisher the wrong way for about ten seconds and screamed the whole time,” Lup corrected with absolutely no emotion in her voice.

And now that Taako’s beloved sister mentioned it, there _was_ a suspicious, white, foamy substance covering the stove, but—

“Wait, okay, hold—listen, I’m gonna need you to back the train up, okay? Like, I’m pretty—I’m _pretty dang sure_ ch’boy missed his stop, and his stop was labelled, uh, _Someone Set My Godsdamn Kitchen On Fire_!” Taako shouted, his voice pitching up a few octaves as he threw his hands in the air.

“Uh,” Barry said, clearing his throat, “uh, in my defence—”

_“You set my godsdamn kitchen on fire?!”_

“ _In my defence_ I, uh, got distracted.”

Taako pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long, deep breath. “Ren?” he asked. “You, uh, you seem to be the _responsible fucking adult_ in this—this gaggle of clowns I somehow call my fucking family. What happened?”

Ren sighed and took a long drink from her measuring cup.

“So,” she said. “Long answer or short answer?”

“Uh, whichever answer gets us the whole _my kitchen being on fire_ thing quickest?” Taako said. “Like, uh, I really—I’m pretty _fucking_ curious as to what happened here, vis-à-vis you idiots almost _burning down our place of business and sole source of income_.”

“Okay, so, short answer—your brother-in-law got distracted and accidentally sat a dishtowel on top the lit stove. Magnus noticed the fire when he came in to grab a chicken caprese salad, freaked out, and sprayed it with anti-fire,” Ren said, again looking longingly at the measuring cup. Honestly? Taako was right there with her. “Also, the batteries in the smoke detector are dead.”

“So if you think about it, I was _actually_ —” Barry started.

“Accidentally committing arson for the greater good? Huh? Is that—is _that_ what happened here, Barold?”

Barry looked over to the side. “I mean, it wasn’t without it’s benefi—”

He stopped as Taako narrowed his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Taako huffed and made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Welp,” he said. “It was only a matter of time before Istus decided to punish us for our hubris. This is divine retribution for allowing you into a kitchen in the first place, so it’s also partially Lup’s fault.”

Barry looked to Lup.

“No, he’s got a point.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Taako said. “Now, are we—we all good? Like, you’re not—you’re not hurt or anything, right? You’re not lounging against my sister because your fucking _jeans_ caught on fire and burned up all your nerves and now you’re paralyzed from the waist down, right?”

“No, I—” Barry scratched the back of his head. “I’m, uh, all good.”

“And we’ve put out the fire? Nothing is—nothing got like, _burned up_ , right? We’re not looking at filing for insurance.”

“Magnus somehow managed to put out the fire before it spread,” Ren said. “So all we’re looking at replacing is a hand towel.”

“Alright. Okay. So that’s—not as bad as I expected, honestly. Ren, you drawing up an incident report?”

“Yup.”

“Wanna share some of that good-good with your main man?” Taako asked, and Ren looked possessively between her measuring cup and Taako, before sighing and pushing it in his direction. “Ren, you’re promoted. Magnus, you’re half promoted. Barold, you’re never touching anything in this kitchen ever again. Lup, you’re good, but I’m judging your taste in men. Jeezy fucking creezy. This job’s gonna turn me grey, and _then_ I’m gonna have to ask Krav if he’s into the whole silver fox thing, and _then_ people are gonna _really_ start assuming I’m the kid’s dad.”

“But hey!” Magnus said, wrapping an arm around Taako’s shoulders, “At least you’re doing it with your family.”

Taako secretly wondered if at some point he’d stopped doing it _with_ and started doing it _for_.

**

“Uncle Kravitz! Taako! Uncle Kravitz! Taako!” Angus shouted as he raced through the front door of the McDonald (slash-McAllister, apparently) household, waving a piece of paper over his head. “Uncle Kravitz! Taako! We’re going on a _field trip_!”

“Oh?” Taako asked, looking up from where he was lounging against Kravitz’s side on the couch. It was his day off, and he was spending it the way he found himself spending a lot of his free time these days, which is to say, _with Kravitz_. (And also Angus, but that wasn’t—that wasn’t _that_ new, so—whatever. Shut up. Don’t look at him like that.) “Where to, pumpkin?”

“We’re going to the zoo!” Angus said, all but vibrating with excitement. “We’re going in two weeks and—and _guess what_ , sirs!”

Kravitz glanced down at Taako, a wide smile on his face, before looking back up at Angus. “What?”

“We get to take _chaperones_!”

“And you—you’re excited about that?” Taako asked. “You’re hyped for _extra authority figures_? Who the fuck raised you, kid?”

“I—I’m not excited because of the extra supervision, sir, though I do understand that it’s only for my own safety and also to prevent liability issues,” Angus explained. “I’m excited because—because I thought—um—”

All of the sudden, the boy seemed to deflate, eyes fixed on the floor as he picked at the hem of his tiny tweed coat.

“Hey now, what—what’s with the face, D’Jangus?” Taako asked, sitting up and turning around to prop his elbows up on the couch so that he could look at Angus directly.

Angus mumbled something unintelligible, and Kravitz frowned as he carefully pulled himself to his feet. “Could you repeat that, Angus?” he asked softly, moving to stand at Angus’ side.

“It’s stupid,” Angus mumbled, just barely loud enough for Taako to hear.

“I’m sure it isn’t,” Kravitz argued.

“I just—I thought maybe—” Angus bit his lip and scuffed the toe of his shiny shoe against the floor. “I thought maybe one of you would like to come chaperone, is all. I—I’ve never been able to bring anyone before, and I—I—it’s stupid. You’re both busy with work, and I wouldn’t want to be a bother, and—”

“Woah, woah, hey, slow your roll there, bubbeleh,” Taako said. “You’re not a—fuck, okay, you, uh, you wanna come sit down here and we—fuck, we can talk about it, or something?”

Angus looked up at him and, gods for-fucking-bid, there were _tears_ in his eyes, which, um. Taako was pretty much not at all qualified to deal with.

The boy nodded and slowly shuffled his way over to the sofa, tucking himself into Taako’s side.

Taako looked over at Kravitz with an expression that he hoped conveyed the fact that, uh, _he literally didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, please fucking help_ , and, thank fucking fantasy Christ, Kravitz got the damn hint and quickly moved to sit on Angus’ other side and began rubbing soft circles into the boy’s back.

“So…” Taako started, running his fingers through Angus’ hair, “How about we take this shit from the top, m’kay? Your class is going to the zoo?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Angus said softly, leaning ever-so-slightly into Taako’s touch. “Two weeks from now.”

“Two weeks from now, okay,” Taako repeated. “What day?”

“Uh, Thursday.”

“Thursday,” Taako said, using his free hand to scratch his chin. “Thursday Thursday Thurs… nope. Nothing happening that day, at least not, uh, not in Taako Town. What about you, Bone Boy? You good to play hooky on Thursday in two weeks?”

“I—there’s nothing incredibly pressing immediately springing to mind,” Kravitz said.

“Is that a yes or no, my man?”

“Yes. It’s a yes,” Kravitz said, and Angus glanced between the two of them.

“Do you really mean that, sirs?” he asked. “You—you both want to come?”

“Hell yeah, little dude,” Taako said. “Getting out of work to go look at some fucking—some tigers or some shit sounds choice as hell.”

“ _Plus_ , we get to spend extra time with you,” Kravitz added, squeezing Angus’ shoulder in a universal gesture of _Fatherly Support™_.

Taako did his best to tamp down on the anxiety that surged in his stomach.

“Yup,” he said. “Nothing like bonus time with the Nerd Squad.”

Angus beamed at the two of him, his eyes still shiny. “Thank you both,” he said, “It—it means a lot, really, and I—”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re the greatest ever, pretty much. Tell us something we don’t know, kid,” Taako interrupted, flicking on the brim of Angus’ cap.

“Most serial killers are actually arrested by normal patrol officers and not officers or detectives working their case,” Angus replied dutifully, “and despite media misconception, most do not actually want to be caught.”

“Well, aren’t you—aren’t you just a bundle of joy,” Taako said. “Y’know, most kids don’t, like, collect knowledge about murderers or do science projects over dead bodies, and, uh—honestly I should probably be more concerned about your intense fascination with crime.”

For a moment, all three of them sat in silence.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Kravitz said.

Privately, Taako was inclined to agree with him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a zoo, but he was pretty sure the animals were supposed to, like.
> 
> Do something.
> 
> Literally anything.
> 
> At least, like, be visible. He—for once in his fucking life, Taako wasn’t asking for much, just, like, that the animals he’d paid to see be where he could fucking see them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all. y'all? college is absolutely fucking wild and I am! going crazy but in the best possible way, y'know?
> 
> anyways. sorry the wait has been so long, but hopefully it's worth it.

Taako couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a zoo, but he was pretty sure the animals were supposed to, like.

Do _something_.

Literally _anything_.

At least, like, be _visible_. He—for once in his fucking life, Taako wasn’t asking for much, just, like, that the animals he’d _paid to see_ be where he could _fucking see them_.

“Where are—there’s supposed to be a bear here?” he asked, peering at the placard in front of the enclosure they were currently standing in front of. “How the—where’s the fu—freaking bear, huh? Where are they—hey, hey guys, how do you lose a freaking _bear_?”

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t lose the bear, sir,” Angus said, standing on his tiptoes so that he could better see over the fence around the supposed bear enclosure. “I think it’s just sleeping.”

“Then wake it up!” Taako insisted. “Hey, hey bear! Hey, bear! We’re here! Wake up, sleepyhead, you got—you got folks who paid real, actual money to see you, so—yeah, it’s not sleeping time anymore, my good dude!”

“Taako, I don’t think the bear can hear you,” Angus said. “Also, yelling at bears is probably not a—not the best plan, actually.”

“What, are you a bear expert now, huh?”

“N-no, but—just, in general, generally, you shouldn’t, y’know, yell at dangerous predators who could rip you limb from limb.”

Taako looked down at Angus, back at the “bear” enclosure, and at Kravitz, who looked like he was trying to be disapproving but also like he was about to shit himself laughing, and then back to Angus again.

“I guess that’s fair,” Taako said. “You guys wanna move on, then, since this guy—this guy’s a freaking bust?”

Angus laughed, Kravitz rolled his eyes, and from behind him, Taako heard someone clear their throat.

“Mr., ah—”

“’S just Taako,” Taako replied. “’Sup?”

“I just thought it pertinent to remind you of the importance of staying with the group,” the woman said, her tone just short of outright disapproval.

Taako wasn’t sure how he felt about Angus’ Common teacher. On one hand, Miss Lucretia did seem, like, scarily competent, but on the other hand, she seemed… distant. Reserved. She held herself with a certain air of dignity and gravitas that seemed a bit much for, y’know.

An eighth-grade Common teacher.

“Right, okay,” Taako said. “But, uh, does that mean we’re going to go look at some, like, _actual_ animals soon, instead of just the places where the animals shi—uhhhhh, _relieve themselves?_ ”

Miss Lucretia stared at him for another moment before sighing and turning back to the group.

“I thought it was a fair question,” Taako said. “Like—if we’re not allowed to go do our own thing, can we _at least_ look at something, y’know, _cool_?”

“Taako—”

“Plus, I didn’t even say _shit_ , so I don’t know what’s got her so upset, y’know?”

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” Kravitz asked. “Like—we’re here to supervise the children, not cause additional problems.”

“Maybe that’s why _you’re_ here, bubbeleh, but _Causing Additional Problems_ is my middle name. Taako ‘Causing Additional Problems’ Taaco, that’s me.”

“Sir, all I’m asking is that you don’t do anything that’ll end with me getting detention, or, y’know, dying,” Angus said.

“Which of those is the priority, though? Like if you had to choose between dying and detention, which, uh, which one would you _prefer—_ ”

“I’d probably take the detention, sir,” Angus said. “I, uh, I know I _seem_ like your classic Hermione Granger-esque _‘genius child’_ literary trope, but my life doesn’t _actually_ revolve around academia.”

“Well I guess that’s progress,” Taako said, pushing down on the brim of Angus’ detective cap.

“If everyone would take a moment to look at their maps, next we’re going to be headed to the region labelled _Animals of The Fantasy Savanna_ ,” Miss Lucretia said from the front of the group. “Parents, if you’d do a headcount to make sure all the children under your supervision are accounted for.”

“Uh, were we supposed to be watching other kids?” Taako asked Kravitz, who shrugged.

Oh well. These kids were in the eighth grade. They could take care of themselves.

“So, uh, the fantasy savanna, huh?” Taako said as he followed behind Angus, “That’s, like, lions and shit, right?”

Kravitz cleared his throat and elbowed Taako in the ribs.

“I—lions and _stuff_ , okay? Lions and stuff,” Taako corrected with a casual wave of his hand. “But, like—that’s the savanna, right? I mean, I watched my fair share of fantasy Kratt brothers in my—in my youth, so I _think_ that’s it, but—”

“It says here that the fantasy savanna region includes antelope, wildebeest, giraffes, elephants, hyenas, cheetahs, zebras, hartebeest, mongeese, lions—”

“It’s mongooses, actually,” Taako interrupted.

“Is it really?” Kravitz asked.

“Uh, yeah, homie, it is really,” Taako replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not—Taako, I don’t doubt you,” Kravitz said, holding his hands up in front of him. “I just—it’s interesting.”

“Oh,” Taako said. “I—yeah. Yeah. I used to—gods, this is fucking embarrassing—I used to, ah, really be, like, into mongooses—”

“Like as a—Taako, did you—Taako, _please_ tell me you didn’t—”

“Hey, hey Krav?” Taako said, staring at his boyfriend in abject horror, “Kravitz? Krav, baby, honey? Are you fucking _insane_? Like, are you—have you lost your fucking mind? Is that it? Is that what this is? Because I—how would that even _work_? What would that—how— _what—_ ”

“Could you guys _please_ not talk about this right now?” Angus asked, a look of unbridled terror on his face.

Kravitz cleared his throat as Taako quickly looked around to see if anyone was listening, but thankfully all the kids seemed to be listening to Miss Lucretia pretty intently.

Probably for the best.

“I just liked mongooses,” Taako said, scratching the back of his neck. “They—okay, so they have these specialized acetylcholine receptors that make them impervious to venom, so they’re known for killing snakes. Very surprisingly dangerous, like—y’know Rikki Tikki Tavi? Y’know?”

Angus smiled up at him. “It sounds like you know a lot about mongooses, sir.”

“I—uh, I guess I—yeah. When we—when we were real little, y’know, Lup and I—we, like, _played mongoose_. We’d ‘speak mongoose’ and—and Barry, when he first started hanging out with us, we’d only fucking talk in ‘mongoose’ and he thought we were, like, outta our fucking—our fucking gourds, but—” Taako shrugged, looking down at his nails as he continued. “It’s kinda how I see myself, y’know? I may not be the most threatening silhouette, but I like to think of myself as somebody who can stand up for, y’know. Stuff.”

“That’s pretty cool, sir,” Angus said, and Taako felt his teeny tiny little hand slipping inside his own. “And—and now you get to see one in real life! Are you excited?”

“Yeah, pumpkin, I am,” Taako said with a grin. “Maybe they’ll actually, y’know, grace us with their presence, unlike _some_ people.”

“Taako, I—I still don’t think antagonizing and apex predator is a good idea,” Angus said.

“Honestly, if you ask me, I think bears might be the most competent killing machines on the planet,” Kravitz interjected with an aura of sincerity that had Taako raising his eyebrows.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“So you—so you think a bear could take, like, a shark? You think a bear could beat a shark? In a fight? You—that’s what I’m hearing you say?”

“I—I’m not saying bears beat _every other animal_ ,” Kravitz said. “I’m just saying that if you pit all the animals against each other in, like, a battle royale scenario, the bear would win more fights than any other animal. Like, it’s—it’s definitely going to be the best at killing the most things. Because, y’know, sharks can only fight in the water, right? Bears can fight on the land _and_ in some water _and_ they can climb trees. There’s no escaping bears.”

Taako, for the first time in maybe his entire godsdamn life, didn’t know what the fuck to say. “That—hoo boy, that sure is an opinion, huh?” he babbled, hoping that if he just started talking he’d somehow figure out how to respond. “Like, one thing you _can_ say is that—is that _that_ is _defo_ an opinion, no doubt. I—hatchi matchi, Krav. And _you’re_ where Ango gets his nerd gene, huh? Kid, bad news, you might want to re-evaluate your career goals because _apparently_ your family loses all their—their fucking _brain skills_ by thirty.”

“Hey!” Angus and Kravitz said in perfect unison.

“Listen, Taako just calls ‘em how he sees ‘em, y’feel me? Like—like it isn’t _my_ fault that take was about as hot as a properly made gazpacho,” Taako said with a shrug.

“Is… is gazpacho supposed to be hot or cold?” Angus asked, and Taako sighed with all the drama and gravitas he could muster.

“Hopeless, you’re both absolutely hopeless,” he said. “Now c’mon, I wanna see if my mongoose language actually works.”

The mongoose exhibit was towards the back of the _Animals of the Fantasy Savanna_ region, which meant that Taako spent the next forty minutes looking at a bunch of animals he didn’t care about, or worse, looking at the _empty homes_ of animals he didn’t care about.

Honestly, someone should talk to the zoo people about the lack of actual animals in the zoo. It was kinda embarrassing, not to mention unprofessional.

There were a couple notable things, of course. Giraffes were cool, if only because they really were _fucking_ ginormous and could have probably trampled them all to death if they felt like it. Zebras, who, for creatures designed to be camouflaged, did a really fucking bad job at it.

The elephant with a massive shlong. Just—obscenely, grotesquely huge. Taako actually covered Angus’ eyes as they walked past because, like, _Jeezy fucking creezy_ , dude, that thing was _dragging along the fucking ground_.

Anyway.

By the time they made it to the mongoose exhibit, Taako had drank his entire three gold-piece bottle of water, his feet were hurting from walking, and he was starting to sweat through the purple floral button-up he was wearing.

“I can’t believe you dipshits somehow tricked me into doing exercise,” Taako grumbled, taking a drink from Kravitz’s water. “These mongooses better be fucking choice as hell.”

“So we—we’ve just given up on the whole _not swearing in front of the many literal children_ thing, huh?” Kravitz asked.

“Eh,” Taako replied with a wave of his hand. “It’s hard to keep track of. Plus, kids think it’s cool, don’t they, Agnes?”

“I don’t really think—”

“Anyways,” Taako interrupted, cutting Angus off, “These mongooses, huh? I wonder if we’ll get to see one eat a snake.”

“I don’t know if they feed them live snakes here at the zoo, Taako,” Angus said.

“That’s bullshit,” Taako argued. “Like—aren’t they supposed to be making this, like, realistic? And similar to their natural habitat and lifestyle and all that? And also, like, _enriching_ , whatever that means?”

“I—I suppose you got me there, sir.”

“We’re now standing in front of the exhibit of the _H. ichneumon_ , or the fantasy Egyptian mongoose,” Miss Lucretia interrupted, gesturing to the exhibit behind her

Taako (subtly) stood up on his toes to get a better look over the heads of a few rudely tall thirteen-year-olds.

Sure enough, there they were, four or five furry weasel-rat looking little guys scurrying around between the logs and rocks and grass scattered across the habitat.

Taako couldn’t help but gasp aloud.

“What is it, sir?” Angus asked, tugging at the hem of Taako’s shirt. “Are they—are they actually eating a snake?”

Taako blinked down at the boy for a minute and was once again struck by how _small_ he was. He was just so _little_. He was barely older than Taako had been when he’d first started learning about mongooses, not even five feet tall, with glasses that were constantly slipping down his nose and a cap that was constantly crooked.

“C’mere, boychik,” he said, and before Angus could protest, he hoisted the boy up onto his hip, grunting under the weight.

“Sir, you don’t—Taako, this is—okay, okay, alright, this is really unnecessary, you can—please don’t drop me—please, sir, I—Taako, sir, I understand that you got swept up in what I can only imagine was a rush of paternal feelings, but _please_ put me down,” Angus said, and Taako quickly lowered him back onto the ground with a huff.

“I—Shut up,” he said. “Listen, I—no one mention what just happened.”

“It was a sweet gesture—”

“I _said_ don’t mention it,” Taako grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest before turning to Kravitz, who was staring at him with a disgustingly sappy look on his face.

Taako sighed and rolled his eyes. “Wipe that look off your face and put those biceps to work, will ya? How is D’Jango over here supposed to truly appreciate the beauty of these ferret looking idiots if he can’t see them, huh?”

Kravitz grinned and shook his head, just for a moment, before turning back to his nephew. “You wanna get up on my shoulders?”

Angus looked at him warily for half a second before smiling. “I—okay,” he said. “Do you—do you think you can lift me?”

“Kid, you weigh like 85 pounds,” Taako said.

“ _You_ couldn’t lift me.”

“Uh, if you’ll remember correctly, it wasn’t the _lifting_ that was the problem as much as it was the _holding_ , alright, smarty-pants?”

“Alright,” Angus said, moving to climb onto Kravitz’s shoulders. “Are they—what are they doing?”

“They’re just chilling for now,” Taako said, pointing to where a few of the mongooses were curled up together. “They’re not nocturnal, but if they’re not actively hunting, they’re usually sleeping.”

“Do they only eat snakes?” Kravitz asked.

“Nah, they’re carnivores, so they’ll munch on just about any kind of meat, y’know? They eat a lot of, like, lizards and mice and eggs and shit. Eating snakes is just, like, a cool bonus.”

“We should try and get closer,” Angus said, leaning forward on Kravitz’s shoulders.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure _not climbing into the animal houses_ is, like, zoo rule 101—”

“Not like that, just—closer,” Angus said. “I wanna see them better.”

Taako looked at Kravitz, who smiled and rolled his eyes.

“Alrighty then,” Taako said. “Let’s, uh, let’s get closer to these fools.”

Together, they all shuffled forward towards the mongoose enclosure, until they were right up against the fence.

“You should try talking to one of them,” Angus whispered.

Taako glanced up at him. “Kiddo, the mongoose language was, like, one-hundo percent bullshit—”

“How did you say hello?”

Taako sighed and made a noise that was somehow both a grunt and a squeak.

“Wow, sir, that was super unpleasant,” Angus said, eyes wide. “I—it’s a very good thing we’re not recording some sort of auditory, sound-based media because that was actual, literal hell on my ears.”

“You fucking—you asked for it! You asked me to do this!” Taako argued.

“Well, sir, if I’d known it’d sound like a depressed Guinea pig getting run over by a fantasy Big Wheel tricycle, I definitely wouldn’t have.”

“How do you—"

“That’s not important,” Angus interrupted, and Taako and Kravitz shared a look, but neither of them felt inclined to argue.

The three of them stood there, for a moment, Angus perched on Kravitz’s shoulders, Kravitz’s hand holding on to the boy’s ankles, Taako’s arm wrapped around Kravitz’s waist, as they watched the mongooses sleep peacefully in the sun.

**

“Yo, if we don’t stop for lunch soon, I’m going to straight-up eat that fucking flamingo, and I—that’s not a fucking joke,” Taako complained as he slumped along behind Angus and Kravitz through the fantasy rainforest region.

“Not a joke? Not even a little bit of a goof?” Angus asked, head tilted to the side.

“Nope. Jokes—jokes aren’t even here right now. I think we left jokes in the fucking snake tunnel because they—they’re ain’t here. I don’t have them.”

“Oh, darling, we know _you_ don’t have them,” Kravitz said placatingly, and Taako smacked him on the shoulder.

“Seriously, though,” he said. “I’m gonna starve to death in 3.14 seconds, so, like… could we maybe take five with, uh, fucking fantasy Curious George over there?”

“Actually, Mr. Taako—”

“It’s still just Taako, kemosabe,” Taako interrupted, and Miss Lucretia pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Alright then, _Taako_ , we’re actually about to settle down for lunch. The picnic area is just on the other side of the aviary. Seeing as you’re so eager to eat, I’m guessing you won’t mind heading over there now to make sure things are clean and ready for us?” she asked, and Taako grinned.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “Say, teach, am I allowed to bring a friend? Buddy system and all that?”

Lucretia stared at him for another moment before sighing. “I suppose,” she said. “In that case, take Angus with you as well. We’ll be rejoining you shortly.”

Taako gave her a two-fingered salute before grabbing each of his boys by the arm and dragging them towards the aviary.

“Wait wait wait, _Taako_ ,” Kravitz insisted, coming to a halt just outside the aviary doors. “Taako, could we—maybe we could take our time going through the aviary, y’know? Actually, uh, get a good look at the animals instead of being rushed around by the field trip group—”

“What field trip are you on, babe, because the one I’m on is going at a fucking _snail’s pace_ ,” Taako said. “We waited for five minutes to _maybe_ see a lion _maybe_ come out of its den. And then it _didn’t_.”

“Taako, please, maybe we just—cherish the time we have together, just the three of us—”

“Uncle Kravitz is a bird nerd and wants to see a thick-billed raven,” Angus suddenly interjected, and Taako blinked at him a few times, desperately trying to process that information.

“Uh, would you, um, mind running that one by me again there, pumpkin?”

“Uncle Kravitz is goth and likes birds, and the aviary here houses a very particular type of goth bird called a _thick-billed raven_ that he would like to see,” Angus explained, and Taako watched as his boyfriend (probably boyfriend—they still hadn’t, y’know, _discussed it_ , but Taako was pretty sure they were _probably_ boyfriends, at this point) turned a rather remarkable shade of red, especially considering that usually, Taako couldn’t tell if Kravitz was blushing at all.

“How did you—how do you even—what—”

“I think you guys keep forgetting that I _am_ the world’s greatest detective,” Angus replied cheerfully. “But I didn’t even _need_ to be to solve this case. We literally share a computer, Uncle Kravitz. I can see your fantasy search history.”

“Oh,” Kravitz said, scratching the back of his neck. “So you’ve seen—”

“Your near-constant fantasy Google searches into _fall goth aesthetics_ and _goth outfits autumn_ and _casual goth clothes_ and _cute couples Halloween costumes_? Yes.”

Taako raised an eyebrow as Kravitz seemed to collapse in on himself like a dying star.

“Hm,” Taako said. “ _Goth outfits autumn_ , huh? That’s funny because I seem to _distinctly_ recall a certain someone very avidly arguing that he _wasn’t goth_ when we first met—”

“This is hell. I am in hell. You two have sent me to literal, _actual_ hell, and I’m there, now, just—” Kravitz waved his hands around wildly as he searched for the words to continue, “Chilling, I guess, with all the fucking demons and liches and necromancers and whatever.”

“Sounds like something you’d be into, Goth Boy.”

“Can we _please_ look at the thick-billed raven?” Kravitz asked, gesturing to the aviary doors behind them.

“Sure,” Taako said. “But you gotta explain to me the whole bird thing. Quid-pro-quo, my dude.”

“Kinda weird that we say that, considering I don’t think Latin exists in this fantasy world,” Angus said.

“Shush, kiddo, I’m trying to figure out if your uncle ever had a crush on fantasy Big Bird.”

Kravitz groaned and pushed open the aviary doors. “I never had a crush on fantasy Big Bird,” he said. “I just—like birds. Like, they can fly! That—who doesn’t want to fly? They fly, and they sing, and—did you know that corvids actually have the same level of intelligence as an average human toddler?”

“Kinda dunking on human toddlers there, Krav.”

“I’m not—listen, they’re just interesting, y’know?” Kravitz said with a sheepish sort of shrug. “When I was much, much, _much_ younger, back before I knew I wanted to get into music—”

“Or dead dudes.”

“Or dead dues, yes,” Kravitz said, “Before any of that, I wanted to be—well, I suppose the proper name would be an ornithologist, but I called it a bird scientist. I actually—I _had_ a bird, a raven, beautiful thing, named Queenie, who I—I think I got her when I was six or seven, and she actually—she only just passed away two years ago.”

“Oh wow,” Taako said. “Angus was right. You _are_ a bird nerd.”

“Taako!” Angus hissed, elbowing Taako in the side.

“What? I’m not—that’s not a _diss_ or anything,” Taako defended. “I—Listen, I think we’re all fucking _acutely_ aware of what little leg I have to stand on vis-à-vis _weird animal knowledge_ , so, like—I’m not dunking on you, Krav, I just—didn’t know that. About you.”

“Well,” Kravitz said, a small smile on his face. “Now you do, I guess.”

“So which one of these is the thick goth boy we’re looking for?” Taako asked, looking around the aviary.

It was a large, glass room that was filled to the top of its high, mesh ceiling with trees and bushes and other miscellaneous shrubbery and, of course, an absolute _shit load_ of birds.

Just, like, an _unseemly_ amount of birds.

Some of them looked pretty normal—Taako wasn’t an _ornithologist_ , apparently, but he knew what a fucking _blue jay_ looked like—while others looked like they belonged on top of some rich lady’s fantasy Kentucky Derby hat.

“They’re called _thick-billed ravens_ , and they mostly just look like any other raven except for, uh—”

“A thick bill?”

“Um, yeah, pretty much,” Kravitz said. He didn’t actually appear to be paying much attention to Taako, now, instead spinning in a circle as he stared at the room around him.

It was probably almost too much for his poor bird nerd heart to take.

As Taako watched him, he felt something weird and disgustingly sappy building in his stomach, and quickly shoved it down.

“So like that one?” Angus asked, pointing to a tree in the far corner of the aviary.

Sure enough, perched on one of the branches was a big, black bird with a _thick as hell bill_.

“Holy shit,” Taako murmured. “I thought the dinosaurs were fucking extinct or, like, had all evolved into dragons or some shit.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Kravitz asked, taking a step closer. “The feathers are iridescent due to the diffraction rather than the pigmentation of sunlight. Ravens actually have a number of platelets in each feather that determines the hues within the feather.”

“That was somehow both some absolute dweeb-ass shit and also very attractive,” Taako murmured as he stared at the bird.

“Gross,” Angus muttered from beside him.

“So, uh, anymore cool bird facts for us, Edgar Allen Poe?”

“A group of ravens used to be called an _unkindness,_ a _treachery,_ or a _conspiracy_ , and the word _raven_ comes from the fantasy Proto-Germanic word _khrabanas_ ,” Kravitz said.

“That’s pleasant,” Taako said.

Kravitz turned back towards Taako and tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “I, uh, thanks for not, um, y’know, thinking I’m a giant dork.”

“Oh, no, I defo think that, hon,” Taako said, placing a gentle hand on Kravitz’s cheek. “I just, y’know, also think it’s kinda adorable and, like, again. Not exactly free of animal nerddom myself, here, so.”

Kravitz smiled wide, his cheeks dimpling and his eyes squinting as he beamed at Taako brighter than the midday sun, and Taako couldn’t help but lean in to—

“I’m actually begging you guys to stop doing this,” Angus interrupted.

Taako huffed and pulled away, rolling his eyes at the boy in front of him and pushing his cap down over his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s, ah, let’s go set up those picnic tables, huh?”

“Sounds good to me,” Angus said, standing between Kravitz and Taako and taking each of their hands.

“Angus—”

“Nope,” Angus interrupted. “Sorry, sirs, but you’ve both proven you can’t be trusted without a chaperone. Let’s go.”

The rest of the class joined them in the small picnic area fifteen minutes later, steered along by Miss Lucretia, who somehow managed to look perfectly composed even while herding twenty-something eighth-graders in the midday heat.

“Everyone have a seat with your lunch buddies!” she said, clapping a few times to get everyone’s attention. “We’ll be eating here for the next thirty minutes before we move on to the marine biology region.”

“Do you have a lunch buddy?” Taako whispered to Angus.

“No,” Angus whispered back

“Oh thank the gods,” Taako sighed. “That’d be a lot of people to keep track of, here. I think three people is, like, the reasonable limit for people in a scene. Any more than that and it gets hard to remember everyone who’s here.”

Angus looked like he was about to respond when he was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Miss Lucretia hovering over their table.

Taako took a deep breath and stared off into the middle distance with a rather put-upon expression on his face.

“Hello, Miss Lucretia, ma’am!” Angus said, smiling up at his teacher. “Are you going to eat lunch with us?”

“Well, I was planning on just checking in to see how the three of you are doing, but if you’re inviting me, I’d be happy to join you,” Lucretia replied, a small grin on her face.

Which, yeah. Duh. Obviously. Angus could charm the pants off of a fucking skeleton. The kid had, like, plus eight charisma. Shit was absolutely wack.

“Sounds good to me!” Angus said before opening up his own lunch bag.

Taako had packed everything in brown paper sacks, if only to fully capture those good good _elementary school field trip_ vibes. The food itself, on the other hand, was just as elaborate as always because just because Taako was going to be _surrounded_ by thirteen-year-old heathens didn’t mean he had to eat like one. Kravitz, Angus, and he each had a sandwich made of oven-roasted turkey, arugula, and homemade jalapeno jam. Kravitz and Taako’s sandwiches were on homemade croissants with goat cheese, while Angus’ was on an everything bagel. They each also had a small container of fruit salad—without strawberries—a bag of salt and vinegar chips, and two elderflower macarons.

“Wow, Angus, that—that’s quite the spread you’ve got there,” Lucretia said, staring at the veritable feast in front of the boy.

“Taako’s a chef,” Angus said, carefully unwrapping his sandwich and taking a bite.

“Oh?” Lucretia asked. “Is that so?”

“Mhm!” Angus said, quickly swallowing his food. “He runs _Tostaada’s Café and Bakery_ downtown, and he’s been giving me cooking lessons for a few years! He’s the best chef ever!”

Taako smiled at the boy and reached over to wipe a spot of jelly off his cheek. “The kid’s not exaggerating,” he said. “I’m pretty much incredible.”

“I’ll have to come over and try your food some time,” Lucretia said, her smile only a little bit forced.

“Oh defo,” Taako said. “We’re open ten to eight every day except Sunday, but—here, try this.”

He tossed her one of his own macarons—it was no big, really, he was planning on making more that night, anyway—and sat back in his chair as Lucretia caught it and stared at it in her hand for a moment. “You’re supposed to eat it,” he prompted.

“I’ll take a sta—I’ll take a run at it,” Lucretia said before taking a bite out of the cookie.

A moment later, she broke out into the first real smile Taako had seen on her face since they’d started the field trip.

“Okay?” he asked with a smirk.

“Hot diggity shit.”

“That’s what we do. That’s how we do it.”

“That is a baller cookie. How did you—how did you even do this?” Lucretia asked, looking at Taako with an expression of pure awe.

Taako leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands behind his head. “The secret is to get the almonds ground down really fine before you try to uh, make the cookie,” he said, and to his pure and utter amazement, Lucretia pulled a notebook out of _gods_ know where and began scribbling down honest to the gods _notes_. “And also, the filling should be thick enough so that the cookie can stand on its side and stay together,” he continued.

Lucretia tore out the page and stuffed it in her pocket. “You should—Taako, have you ever thought about writing a book?”

“A what now?”

“A book,” Lucretia continued. “Like, a cookbook. You obviously have a lot of skill, and I—I’m sure plenty of people would like to learn how to cook like this.”

“Hm,” Taako said. “I hadn’t—y’know, I hadn’t ever thought of that. That’s a good idea.”

Lucretia smiled at him. “Y’know, Taako,” she said, “Part of being a good teacher is recognizing potential.”

Taako decided Angus’ teacher was pretty alright.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cooking with Kravitz was different from cooking with Lup or Ren or even Barry. 
> 
> They didn’t talk all that much. Mostly they worked in silence, Kravitz doing the mise en place while Taako handled the real cooking. Sometimes they’d turn on the radio, usually to some fantasy indie bullshit that Kravitz was into.
> 
> Sometimes Kravitz wouldn’t even help at all, and instead would instead sit at the piano in the next room and play.
> 
> They’d work side by side, bumping elbows and hips and sneaking smiles at each other over pots and pans and poultry, until, always and inevitably, they would end up in the same position, with Kravitz wrapping his arms around Taako’s waist and resting his shoulder on Taako’s chin, the both of them enjoying the ease and comfort of each other’s presence.
> 
> It was, to put it frankly, incredibly gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey
> 
> sorry this took so long, and sorry it's so short, but this chapter is actually v personal and means a lot to me, and i think y'all are going to really enjoy it
> 
> hopefully it's, like. funny and shit.

Angus was already asleep when Taako arrived at the house.

Or, at least, he was already in bed.

Or _, at least,_ he was already in his room.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

The kid had been known to climb out a few windows in order to do some late-night detective work, so Taako wouldn’t put it past him to actually be, like, sneaking into a sketchy bar full of potential serial killers, or breaking into a top-secret government facility, or smuggling himself onto the moon somehow.

Kids these days were into some weird shit.

 _Anyway_ , point was, Angus was most definitely _not_ in the living room with Taako and Kravitz, which was good because if the kid _had_ been there, he’d probably also be scarred for life.

Wink.

“Y’know, I haven’t actually had dinner yet,” Taako said as he lay on top of Kravitz’s chest on the couch, tracing nonsense patterns into Kravitz’s shoulder. “We got really busy during my usual break time and I just—forgot.”

“Well,” Kravitz said, “I mean, you can always use—”

“Thanks so much, babe!” Taako said, hopping to his feet and practically racing into the kitchen.

He heard Kravitz huff in a way that sounded more fond than exasperated as the man followed him into the room.

The McDonald-allegedly-McAllister kitchen was actually pretty well-stocked at this point. Taako stayed over at least a couple nights a week, and he liked to have _options_ —after all, what was life without the knowledge that one had the ability to make mac and cheese at three a.m.?

Not worth living, _that’s_ what.

Taako pulled out a package of chicken thighs, some olive oil, a package of asparagus, and a few potatoes before getting to work.

You’d think that after a full day of working in a kitchen he’d be sick and tired of cooking, but Taako still loved it. He loved working with his hands, loved creating something he knew would be useful, loved the way he could let his mind wander as he got caught up in the motions of chopping and peeling and dicing and sizzling.

“You eaten?” he asked as he slid the chicken into the oven.

“I—no, actually, I got home late, and Angus needed some help finding a particular source for his history project and then—”

“You don’t gotta tell me the whole sad story, compadre,” Taako said. “I’m not trying to interrogate you, I just need to know how many potatoes to use.”

Kravitz grinned and wrapped his arms around Taako’s waist. “Enough for two,” he said, pressing a kiss to Taako’s cheek. Taako swatted his hands away and turned back to the counter in front of him.

“Alright, then,” he said. “You’re in charge of putting the water on, yeah? Think you can handle that?”

“Do I think I can _put a pot of water on the stove_?”

“Hey now, don’t act like it’s some common-sense thing. I’m also trusting you to salt the water correctly.”

“Oh, well, in that case.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “You’re such an asshole,” he said. “How— _I’m_ supposed to be the asshole here, asshole. That’s _my_ shtick.”

“I’m coming for your brand.”

“I’ll sue you for copyright infringement.”

“We both know neither of us has enough money for a lawyer,” Kravitz said, and Taako couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, uh, not much money in the _small-time local café_ industry, huh?” he said. “Or, um, the dead people industry, I suppose.”

“No, not really,” Kravitz agreed.

“Doesn’t make much sense to me, honestly,” Taako said. “Like—like, listen, at some point, we’re all gonna be on that slab, y’know? Like, you could—you could crank the _fuck_ outta people, and what are they gonna do? Not bury their dad?”

Kravitz huffed. “I—I suppose we _could_ ,” he said. “It doesn’t—it doesn’t seem very _ethical_ , though, does it? I—these people are already going through one of the most difficult times of life, and Raven and I, we—we don’t think it’d be right to add to that simply to line our own pockets.”

Taako smiled and pushed a few potato chunks to the side. “Aren’t you a couple of good fantasy Samaritans,” he said.

“It shouldn’t be—it shouldn’t be remarkable, though, is the thing,” Kravitz said. “Like—like these people just lost someone close to them. They’re going to have to live the rest of their lives without that person. They’re—they’re doing one of the most difficult things a person can do, and—and that shouldn’t be something people strive to _profit_ off of. We—” he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “We, as people, owe it to them, to—to show them kindness and compassion during those difficult times just because we recognise that it’s what they, as people, deserve.”

Taako carefully put down his knife and turned to face Kravitz, who was red in the face, his hair a mess where he had run his fingers through it.

Taako smiled at him.

“You’re such a fucking dork,” he muttered, leaning up and kissing Kravitz’s cheek before turning back to the potatoes on the counter, pointedly ignoring the warmth in his chest.

“I just—I respect the sanctity of death!” Kravitz insisted, and Taako could practically _hear_ him throwing his hands in the air.

“Okay then, Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way,” Taako scoffed. “D’you think you could snap the asparagus for me, or are you too busy putting your middle finger up at preps?”

“I—I don’t know what any of those words mean,” Kravitz sputtered.

Taako rolled his eyes and turned to hand Kravitz a bundle of asparagus. “Snap off the ends, m’kay, pretty boy?”

Kravitz grinned. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I mean, there’s gotta be _some_ reason I’m in this relationship, and gods know it’s not because you made such a stellar first impression.”

Kravitz blushed, and Taako leaned over to give him another quick kiss and a pat on the cheek. “You’re cute. Get to work.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Kravitz replied, taking his place at Taako’s side.

Cooking with Kravitz was different from cooking with Lup or Ren or even Barry. For starters, Kravitz had _no fucking clue_ what was going on at any particular moment. He didn’t know the difference between a _chop_ and a _slice_ and a _dice_ and a _julienne_. He didn’t know the difference between broiling and roasting, or sauteing and searing, or why people needed multiple types of knives, or how a food processor was different from a blender.

Taako had asked about it in the past. Plenty of folks didn’t know how to cook, but most of them at least knew that you didn’t try and peel potatoes with a chef’s knife.

“We didn’t spend much time in the kitchen,” Kravitz had explained. “It wasn’t—it’s not some chauvinistic bullshit, Andrea never learned anything either. Our parents didn’t even cook all that often. Mom was a nurse and worked twelves three or four times a week, so she didn’t even get home until about eight-thirty most nights, and Dad was more interested in teaching us about plants and birds and biology than cooking.”

Taako had hummed and proceeded to guide Kravitz’s constantly clammy hands through the motions of mincing an onion.

But it wasn’t just Kravitz’s (honestly impressive) lack of cooking knowledge that made it different. There was something _else_ about it, something that Taako would almost call _domestic_ if it didn’t make his heart start doing the fantasy fucking _Cha Cha Slide_ in his chest every time he thought about it.

They didn’t even talk all that much. Taako would give _gentle direction_ —they weren’t _orders_ or _commands_ , Krav, stop making him sound like some sort of _weird kitchen perv_ —and Kravitz would ask embarrassing questions like _how do they turn the chickens into broth_ , but mostly they worked in silence, Kravitz doing the mise en place while Taako handled the _real_ cooking. Sometimes they’d turn on the radio, usually to some fantasy indie bullshit that Kravitz was into.

Sometimes Kravitz wouldn’t even help at all, and instead would instead sit at the piano in the next room and play.

They’d work side by side, bumping elbows and hips and sneaking smiles at each other over pots and pans and poultry, until, always and inevitably, they would end up in the same position, with Kravitz wrapping his arms around Taako’s waist and resting his shoulder on Taako’s chin, the both of them enjoying the ease and comfort of each other’s presence.

It was, to put it frankly, _incredibly gay_.

“You’re gonna have to let go of me here pretty soon, Skeletor,” Taako said. “These potatoes aren’t going to mash themselves, and there’s no way I can give them the good, strong hand they need if you’re hanging off of me like a goth limpet.”

“See, you say things like _the good, strong hand they need_ and then accuse _me_ of making you sound like a kitchen pervert,” Kravitz said, withdrawing slowly and not before he placed another soft kiss to Taako’s cheek.

“Shut up and get ready to take the asparagus out of the oven,” Taako said. “And please, for the love of the gods, _use an oven mitt this time_.”

“Fine, but I don’t see why I have to.”

“ _Kravitz—_ ”

“I’m _fast_!”

“Kravitz we _can’t keep doing this_.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Kravitz huffed and dug around in the kitchen drawers for an oven mitt.

Dinner was incredible, natch. They sat side by side on the couch, plates balanced in their laps while they watched one of the great seminal classics of cinema, fantasy 2007’s _Nancy Drew_ starring fantasy Emma Roberts.

“Y’think Ango’s ever gonna have hits put out against him for being too good at sleuthing?” Taako asked, leaning against Kravitz’s shoulder as he took a drink of the chocolate milk they kept specifically _for_ the boy detective.

“I mean, I hope not.”

“Yeah, same,” Taako agreed. “Would be kinda bad-ass though.”

“Taako, he’s ten.”

“Hey, hey, so, Angus is obviously Nancy Drew—”

“ _Obviously_.”

“So what does that make us?”

“Nancy Drew’s gay pseudo-father figures?”

“I mean, yeah, but, like. You know. In the _context of the film_ , Kravitz. The _film_. The cinematic _masterpiece_ and absolute _work of art_ that is fantasy 2007’s _Nancy Drew: Get A Clue_ —who d’you think we’d _be_?”

Kravitz was quiet for a moment. “I think I’m the dad,” he said after a moment. “You’re not overprotective enough, and I’m the only one of us who actually wears suits.”

“Okay, good point. Follow up question: would you wear the fedora?”

“Not if you offered to pay off every penny of my student loan debt _and then some_.”

“That’s—I’m getting the word from our producers and that’s actually the _only_ correct answer so, uh, good job. Our relationship can continue.”

“That’s good to know,” Kravitz said, a smirk growing wider on his face. “Also, you’d be Hannah Gruen.”

“The _housekeeper_?”

“You asked. I just calls ‘em how I sees ‘em.”

“Actually, I’m getting _another_ word from our producers. This relationship might not be as safe as we previously thought.”

“Are you telling me Angus _couldn’t_ bribe criminals with your lemon bars?”

“I mean, he _defo_ could, obviously, but, like—shut up,” Taako said with a huff. He placed his chocolate milk down on the side table and leaned further into Kravitz’s side, doing his best not to smile like a loon as Kravitz wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

**

Taako had a toothbrush in Kravitz’s bathroom. Taako knew that Kravitz liked sandalwood body wash and lavender-scented lotion. Taako knew where the towels were stored, and which towels were the softest and fluffiest. He knew Kravitz still wore his retainer to bed. He had at least three pairs of sweatpants and five pairs of fantasy Me Undies stuffed into Kravitz’s dresser and a spare charger plugged into the outlet on what had come to be his side of the bed.

Taako didn’t know why he was so hung up on all this tonight. It was— _obviously_ he knew how this shit worked, he’d been dating Kravitz for four months, now, and he spent the night over at least once a week.

“Fantasy Bake Off?” he asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of his own sweatpants and one of Kravitz’s old t-shirts that said _Neverwinter Orchestra Presents the 32 nd Annual Symphony in the Park_.

“Got it cued up,” Kravitz said, twisting his hair into a bun on top of his head. “And, the crème brulees just came out of the oven—”

“The frozen, store-bought, pre-made crème brulees—”

“That you love!”

“Against my own better judgement,” Taako conceded.

“Anyway, we’ve got them, and spoons, and it’s bread week, so—"

“So you want me to hurry my shit up and get in bed?”

“That’s not how _I_ would’ve put it, but yes.”

“Okay, alright, just gimme a minute,” Taako said, rolling his eyes. He quickly unwrapped the towel from around his head, shook his hair out, and slipped on the pair of wire-framed glasses that he’d threatened to turn Kravitz into a souffle if he told anyone about.

Kravitz’s bed wasn’t _massive_ , but Taako didn’t really mind. Gods only knew that he was going to end up clinging to Kravitz like an octopus all night anyway. They lay there, together, side by side, Taako with his head on Kravitz’s chest and his arms around the other man’s waist, Kravitz with one arm over Taako’s shoulders and the other tracing lazy patterns into Taako’s arm.

“If I ever saw fantasy Paul Hollywood, I would kick his ass with a slotted spoon, no fucking hesitation,” Taako said as Kravitz turned off fantasy Netflix and opened fantasy Spotify on his phone. They had a joint playlist for times like this, full of slow, easy songs with the airy sort of vocals that Kravitz always ended up humming along to. Taako had lovingly titled it _pretentious hipster bullshit for homosexuals only_.

“No hesitation? None whatsoever?”

“ _None whatsoever_ ,” Taako repeated.

“What if you were _on Bake Off_ and he was coming to talk to you about, like, a genoese sponge or something—”

“Okay, one, it’s absolutely _wild_ that you think that would be the first time I’d meet Paul Hollywood. Like, if I’m on the show and he’s judging my cake baking skills then I’ve _already_ whipped his ass with a slotted spoon, don’t _even_ trip,” Taako argued, sitting up and poking Kravitz’s chest. “And _two_ , yes. Yes. If that black-and-white toned Guy Fieri knock-off thinks he can critique _my_ sponge he’s got another fucking think coming.”

Kravitz chuckled and pulled Taako back down against his chest. “I’d like to see that,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I fucking—I bet you would, huh.”

“To be fair, I ‘d like to see you do just about anything.”

“Gay.”

Kravitz laughed again and placed a quick kiss to the top of Taako’s head before relaxing against the headboard, Taako still curled up in his arms.

They stayed like that for a while, silent and comfortable, enjoying nothing but each other’s company and the soft piano melody drifting throughout the room.

Sure enough, Kravitz began to hum along with the song, his fingers coming up to run through Taako’s hair, and Taako couldn’t help but smile, his eyes slipping shut as he squeezed Kravitz for a moment and nuzzled further into his chest.

“Taako?” Kravitz asked softly, his fingers stilling in their path through Taako’s hair.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

The words were quiet, but only because the moment was quiet. They weren’t hesitant, weren’t scared or ashamed, just…

Soft.

Taako didn’t reply.

He felt something rising in his throat, felt a stinging in the corners of his eyes, felt his heart beating faster and his chest rising and falling in a sharp, shuddering breath.

“I, uh,” he said, after a moment, after he was sure he could make the sound without choking on it. “I—ditto, I think.”

Kravitz’s arms tightened around his shoulders and he moved to place a kiss on Taako’s temple, but Taako turned just in time, his hand moving to cup Kravitz’s cheek.

He turned in Kravitz’s lap, his other hand gripping Kravitz’s shoulder as they kissed.

When they broke apart, Taako’s breathing was ragged, and he rested his forehead against Kravitz’s.

“Say it again,” he whispered. “Please.”

“I love you,” Kravitz repeated. “I—I love you, Taako, and I don’t think that will change for a—for a very long time. Perhaps ever.”

Taako threw his head back and laughed, loud and sharp and shaking something loose in his chest.

“ _Perhaps ever_ ,” he repeated in disbelief. Disbelief, but not bitterness, not incredulousness.

“If you’ll let me.”

Taako stared at him, at Kravitz, at this ridiculous, wonderful man, whose glasses were smudged from where they pressed against Taako’s face as they kissed, whose hair was falling out of its tie, who made him angry and made him laugh and made his world seem bigger and brighter and—

He kissed him.

He kissed him, and he kissed him, and he kissed him again, and when all that was done, he kissed him one more time before falling forward into his chest, giggling and breathless.

And Taako loved him.

He couldn’t say it, not yet, not at that moment, but—

He’d get there.

And Kravitz would wait for him.

**Author's Note:**

> please, for the sake of my ever-thinning sanity, tell me your thoughts on this absolute monstrosity.
> 
> feel free to yell at me on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel!


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